THE    NEW   WORLD    EDITION 

OF  THE  WORKS  OF 

RUDYARD    KIPLING 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 
THE  YEARS  BETWEEN 

AND   PARODIES 

BY 
RUDYARD    KIPLING 


■ffXH 


t^^i) 


THIS    AUTHORIZED    EDITION    IS 

PUBLISHED    EXCLUSIVELY 

FOR 

FUNK    &    WAGNALLS    COMPANY 


DOUBLEDAY,    PAGE   &   COMPANY 

GARDEN    CITY,   NEW   YORK  AND    TORONTO 


SONGS  FROM   BOOKS 

COPYRIGHT,   1891,   1893,  1894,   1895,  1896, 

1S97,  1899,  1900,   1901,   1904,  1905, 

1906,  1909,  1910,  1912 

BY  RUDYARD  KIPLING 

THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

COPYRIGHT,  1904,  1905,  1907,  1909,  1910,  191  I, 

I912,  I9I3,  1914,  1916,  1917,  1918,  1919 

BY  RUDYARD  KIPLING 


THE  COUNTRY   LIFE  PRESS,  GARDEN  CI  H',  N.  Y. 


SANTA  BARBARA  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

PR 


PREFACE 

I  HAVE  collected  in  this  volume  practically  all  the 
verses  and  chapter-headings  scattered  through  my 
books.  In  several  cases  where  only  a  few  lines  of 
verse  were  originally  used,  I  have  given  in  full  the  song, 
etc.,  from  which  they  were  taken. 

I  wish  to  acknowledge  the  courtesy  of  the  Clarendon 
Press  in  allowing  me  to  print  my  verses  from  the  '  School 
History  of  England.' 


CONTENTS 

SONG 

BOOK 

PAGE 

*Angutivaun  Taina'. 

The  Second  Jungle  Book  . 

269 

Astrologer's  Song,  An 

Rewards  and  Fairies  . 

161 

Ballad  of  Minepit  Shaw, 

The       .... 

Rewards  and  Fairies  . 

256 

Bee  Boy's  Song,  The 

Puck  of  Book's  Hill     . 

168 

Bees  and   the  FUes, 

The       .... 

Actions  and  Reactions 

77 

Before  Edgehill  . 

History  of  England     . 

125 

Bells  and  the  Queen, 

1911,  The.      .      . 

History  of  England     . 

177 

Big  Steamers 

History  of  England 

254 

Blue  Roses    . 

The  Light  that  Failed. 

207 

Boats  of  Newhaven, 

The       .... 

History  of  England     . 

103 

British-Roman  Song, 

A 

Puck  of  Pook's  Hill    . 

89 

Brookland  Road 

Rewards  and  Fairies  . 

13 

'Brown  Bess' 

History  of  England     . 

61 

'By  the  Hoof  of.  the 

Wild  Goat'      .      . 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hillj 

5     200 

Captive,  The 

Traffics  and  Discoveries 

67 

Carol,  A   .      .      .      . 

Rewards  and  Fairies  . 

44 

Centurion's  Song,The 

History  of  England     . 

5 

SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 


SONG 

Chapter  Headings — 

Bank  Fraud,  A 

Beginning    of    the 
Armadilloes,The 

Bronckhorst      Di- 
vorce Case,  The 

Butterfly  that 
Stamped,  The  . 

By  Word  of  Mouth 

Cat   that   Walked 
by  Himself,  The 

Collected   . 

Conversion  of  Au- 
relian  McGoggin, 
The  ...      . 

Crab  that  Played 
with   the   Sea, 
The  .      .      . 

Cupid's  Arrows 

Elephant,  The. 

Elephant's    Child 
The  .      .      . 

False  Dawn 

Goat,  The. 

Head  of  the  Dis 
trict.  The 

His  Wedded  Wife 

How  Fear  Came 

How  the  Camel 
got  his  Hump 

How  the  Leopard 
got  his  Spots 


BOOK 


PAGE 


Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills       39 


Just  So  Stories. 


Just  So  Stories. 
Many  Inventions  . 


Just  So  Stories 


Just  So  Stories. 


186 


Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills       38 

Just  So  Stories.      .      .      .      188 
Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills       37 


188 
143 


Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills       37 


Just  So  Stories.                 .  187 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills  39 

Beast  and  Man  in  India  .  140 

Just  So  Stories.  184 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills  38 

Beast  and  Man  in  India  .  139 

Life's  Handicap      .      .  141 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills  36 

The  Second  Jungle  Book .  235 


183 


184 


CONTENTS 

SONG 

BOOK                           PAGE 

Chapter  Headings — 

How  the  Whale  got 

his  Throat   . 

Just  So  Stories. 

182 

In  Error 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills 

37 

In    the    House    of 

Suddhoo 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills 

38 

In  the  Pride  of  his 

Youth     .      .      . 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills 

36 

Kaa's  Hunting 

The  Jungle  Book   . 

235 

King's  Ankus,  The 

The  Second  Jungle  Book. 

236 

Letting  in  the  Jun- 

gle    ...      . 

The  Second  Jungle  Book . 

236 

Lispeth 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills 

35 

Matter  of  Fact,  A. 

Many  Inventions  . 

142 

Miracle  of  Purun 

Bhagat,  The 

The  Second  Jungle  Book . 

239 

Mowgh's  Brothers 

The  Jungle  Book   .      . 

234 

My  Lord  the  Ele- 

phant 

Many  Inventions  . 

143 

Other  Man,  The  . 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills 

35 

Oxen,  The. 

Beast  and  Man  in  India  . 

139 

Pig        .... 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills 

36 

Pigs  and  Buffaloes 

Beast  and  Man  in  India 

MO 

Quiquern    . 

The  Second  Jungle  Book. 

239 

Red  Dog    .      .      . 

The  Second  Jungle  Book . 

236 

Return  of  Imray, 

The     .    .      .      . 

Life's  Handicap 

142 

Rikki-Tikki-Tavi . 

The  Jungle  Book  . 

237 

Rout  of  the  White 

Hussars,  The 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills 

38 

SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 


SONG 

BOOK                            PAGE 

Chapter  Headings— 

Sing-Song   of   Old 

Man  Kangaroo, 

The  ...      . 

Just  So  Stories. 

185 

Spring     Running, 

The  ...      . 

The  Second  Jungle  Book . 

237 

Thrown  Away 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills 

36 

Tiger!  Tiger! 

The  Jungle  Book   . 

235 

Tods'  Amendment 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills 

37 

Toomai  of  the  Ele- 

phants   . 

The  Jungle  Book   . 

238 

Undertakers,  The. 

The  Second  Jungle  Book . 

239 

White  Seal,  The   . 

The  Jungle  Book   . 

237 

Without  Benefit  of 

Clergy    .      .      . 

Life's  Handicap 

142 

Chapter  Heading 

Kim 

144 

Chapter  Headings    . 

The  Light  that  Failed.      . 

87 

a                              a 

The  Naulahka .... 

83 

Charm,  A 

Rewards  and  Fairies   . 

31 

Children's  Song,  The 

Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     .      . 

134 

Chil's  Song    . 

The  Second  Jungle  Book . 

65 

'Cities  and  Thrones 

and  Powers'     . 

Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     .      . 

3 

City  of  Sleep,  The 

The  Day's  Work    .      .      . 

179 

Cold  Iron. 

Rewards  and  Fairies   . 

40 

Cuckoo  Song 

Heathfield  Parish  Memoirs 

29 

Dane-Geld 

History  of  England 

94 

Darzee's  Chaunt 

The  Jungle  Book   . 

273 

Dawn  Wind,  The     . 

History  of  England 

201 

Dedication,  A     . 

Soldiers  Three 

216 

CONTENTS 


SONG 

Dutch  in  the  Med- 
way,  The   . 

Eddi's  Service 
Egg-Shell,  The    . 

Fairies'  Siege,  The 
Four  Angels,  The 
Frankie's  Trade . 

Gallio's  Song 
Glory  of  the  Garden 

The       ... 
Gow's  Watch 

Iladramauti  . 

Harp    Song    of    the 

Dane  Women . 
Heriot's  Ford 
Heritage,  The     . 

Hunting-Song  of  the 
Seeonee  Pack  . 

If— 


BOOK 

History  of  England 

Rewards  and  Fairies   . 
Traffics  and  Discoveries 

Kim 

Actions  and  Reactions 
Rewards  and  Fairies   . 

Actions  and  Reactions 

History  of  England 
Kim 


PAGE 
109 

48 
224 

52 
275 
261 

75 

277 
192 


Jester,  The 


Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills  73 

Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     .      .  56 
The  Light  that  Failed       .  259 
The  Empire  and  the  Cen- 
tury      127 

The  Jungle  Book   ...  206 

Rewards  and  Fairies   .      .  145 

Collected 155 


Jubal  and  Tubal  Cain  Letters  to  the  Family .      .  Ill 

Juggler's  Song,  The.  TheNaulahka.      .      ,      .  265 

King  and  the  Chil- 
dren, The  .      .  History  of  England     .      .  225 
Kingdom,  The    .  TheNaulahka.      ...  17 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 


SONG 

King  Henry  VII.  and 

the  Shipwrights 
King's  Task,  The 

Law  of  the  Jungle, 
The       .      .      /     . 

Looking-Glass,  The . 

Love  Song  of  Har 
Dyal,  The        .      . 

*Lukannon'  . 

Merrow  Down    . 

Morning  Song  in  the 
Jungle  .... 

Mother  o '  Mine . 

Mowgh's  Song 
against  People 

My  Father's  Chair  . 

My  Lady's  Law . 

'My  New-Cut  Ash- 
lar'  


BOOK  PAGE 

Rewards  and  Fairies    .      .     247 
TrafTics  and  Discoveries   .     227 


The  Second  Jungle  Book.      117 
Rewards  and  Fairies   .      .      174 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills     215 

159 


The  Jungle  Book 


Just  So  Stories 


The  Second  Jungle  Book 
The  Light  that  Failed 

The  Second  Jungle  Book 
History  of  England 
The  Naulahka . 

Life's  Handicap 


Necessitarian,  The  .  Traffics  and  Discoveries 
New       Knighthood, 

The       ....  Actions  and  Reactions 

Norman  Baron,  The  History  of  England 

Nursing  Sister,  The.  The  Naulahka. 


172 

42 
217 

220 
122 
211 

46 
153 

54 

23 

213 


Old  Mother    Laidin- 
wool      .... 
Only  Son,  The 
'Our  Fathers  Also'  . 
'Our  Fathers  of  Old' 


Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     .  .       27 

Many  Inventions  .      .  218 

Traffics  and  Discoveries  .       81 

Rewards  and  Fairies   .  123 


CONTENTS 


SONG  BOOK  PAGE 

Outsong  in  the  Jun- 
gle   The  Second  Jungle  Book .      147 


Parade-Song   of   the 

Camp- Animals 
Pict  Song,  A . 
Picts'  Work,  The 
'Poor  Honest  Men' 
Poseidon's  Law  . 
'Power  of  the  Dog 

The'     .      .      . 
Prairie,  The  . 
Prayer,  The  . 
Prayer  of  Miriam  Co 

hen.  The    . 
Prodigal  Son,  The 
Prophets  at  Home 
Psyche    and    the 

Children 
Puck's  Song  . 
Puzzler,  The. 

Queen's  Men,  The 

Rabbi's  Song,  The 

Recall,  The    . 

Reeds     of     Runny 
mede,  The. 

Return  of  the  Chil- 
dren, The 

'Rimini'  .      .      . 

Ripple  Song,  A  . 

River's  Tale,  The 


The  Jungle  Book   . 
Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     . 
History  of  England 
Rewards  and  Fairies   . 
Traffics  and  Discoveries 

Actions  and  Reactions 
Letters  to  the  Family . 
Kim 


Many  Inventions  . 

Kim 

Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     . 

Traffics  and  Discoveries 
Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     . 
Actions  and  Reactions 

Rewards  and  Fairies   . 

Actions  and  Reactions 
Actions  and  Reactions 

History  of  England 

Traffics  and  Discoveries 
Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     . 
The  Second  Jungle  Book 
History  of  England 


136 
90 
92 

100 

240 

164 

33 

279 

189 
150 
108 

210 

8 

69 

176 

166 
4 

71 

170 

98 

208 

129 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 


SONG 

BOOK 

PAGE 

Road-Song  of  the 

Bandar-Log     . 

The  Jungle  Book   . 

79 

Romulus  and  Remus 

Letters  to  the  Family. 

222 

Run  of   the    Downs, 

The       .... 

Rewards  and  Fairies   . 

12 

Sack    of    the    Gods, 

The       .... 

The  Naulahka .... 

15 

St.  Helena  Lullaby,  A 

Rewards  and  Fairies   . 

63 

School  Song,  A   . 

Stalky  &  Co 

114 

'Servant  when  he 

Reigneth,  A'   . 

Letters  to  the  Family . 

120 

Shiv  and  the  Grass- 

hopper. 

The  Jungle  Book   .      .      . 

50 

Sir  Richard's  Song 

Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     .      . 

.21 

Smugglers'  Song,  A. 

Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     .      . 

245 

Song  of  Kabir,  A 

The  Second  Jungle  Book . 

152 

Song  of  the  Fifth 

River    .... 

Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     .      . 

131 

Song    of    the    Little 

Hunter,  The    . 

The  Second  Jungle  Book . 

190 

Song  of  the  Machines, 

The       .... 

History  of  England 

250 

Song    of    the    Men's 

Side      .... 

Rewards  and  Fairies   . 

271 

Song  of  the  Red  War- 

Boat     .... 

Rewards  and  Fairies   . 

203 

Song  of  Travel,  A     . 

Letters  to  the  Family. 

156 

Song  of  Valley  Forge, 

The       .... 

History  of  England 

106 

Song  to  Mithras,  A . 

Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     .      . 

53 

Stranger,  The 

Letters  to  the  Family. 

96 

CONTENTS 


SONG 

Tarrant  Moss 
Thorkild's  Song. 
Thousandth       Man, 
The       .... 
Three-Part  Song,  A. 
'Together'     . 
Tree  Song,  A 
Truthful  Song,  A 
Two-sided  Man,  The 

Voortrekker,  The 

Way     through     the 

Woods,  The  . 
Wet  Litany,  The 
'When  the  Great 

Ark'      .      .      . 
Widower,  The 
Wilham     the     Con 

queror's  Song . 
Winners,  The 
Wishing  Caps,  The . 
With   Drake  in   the 

Tropics 


BOOK  PAGE 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills       18 
Puck  of  Pook's  Hill     .      .     267 


Rewards  and  Fairies 
Puck  of  Pook's  Hill 
History  of  England 
Puck  of  Pook's  Hill 
Rewards  and  Fairies 
Kim 


Collected 


58 

11 

232 

25 

242 

158 

113 


Rewards  and  Fairies   .      .       10 
Traffics  and  Discoveries     .   252 


Letters  to  the  Family 
Various 


105 
181 


History  of  England  20 

The  Story  of  the  Gadsbys       60 
Kim 198 


History  of  England 


263 


INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES 


PAGE 

256 

77 


About  the  time  that  taverns  shut   .... 

A  farmer  of  the  Augustan  Age 

After  the  sack  of  the  City,  when  Rome  was  sunk 

to  a  name 227 

All  day  long  to  the  judgment-seat 75 

All  the  world  over,  nursing  their  scars             .      .  143 

Alone  upon  the  housetops  to  the  North  215 

And  if  ye  doubt  the  tale  I  tell 142 

And  some  are  sulky,  while  some  will  plunge  .      .  36 

And  they  were  stronger  hands  than  mine .  216 

As  Adam  lay  a-dreaming  beneath  the  Apple  Tree  275 

As  the  dawn  was  breaking  the  Sambhur  belled    .  206 

A  stone's  throw  out  on  either  hand      ....  38 

At  Runnymede,  at  Runnymede 71 

At  the  hole  where  he  went  in 237 

At  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  if  you  open  your 

window  and  listen 201 

Beat  off  in  our  last  fight  were  we? 84 

Because  I  sought  it  far  from  men 84 

Bees!     Bees!     Hark  to  your  bees! 168 

Before  my  Spring  I  garnered  Autumn's  gain  .  142 

Between  the  waving  tufts  of  jungle-grass .      .      .  139 

By  the  Hoof  of  the  Wild  Goat  uptossed    ...  200 


China-going  P.  and  O's. 


186 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Cities  and  Thrones  and  Powers       .... 
Cry  'Murder'  in  the  market-place  and  each  . 

Dark  children  of  the  mere  and  marsh . 

Eddi,  priest  of  St.  Wilfrid  

England's  on  the  anvil — hear  the  hammers  ring 
Ere  Mor  the  Peacock  flutters,  ere  the  Monk 

People  cry 

Excellent  herbs  had  our  fathers  of  old. 
Eyes  aloft,  over  dangerous  places   . 


ey 


-for 


For  a  season  there  must  be  pain 
For  our  white  and  our  excellent  nights- 
nights  of  swift  running. 
For  the  sake  of  him  who  showed 
From  the  wheel  and  the  drift  of  Things 


'Gay  go  up  and  gay  go  down'  .... 
Gold  is  for  the  mistress — silver  for  the  maid 
Go,  stalk  the  red  deer  o'er  the  heather 


the 


PAGE 
3 

35 

140 

48 
20 

190 
123 
210 

181 

236 
147 
189 

177 
40 
36 


Harry,  our  King  in  England,  from  London  town 

is  gone 247 

He  drank  strong  waters  and  his  speech  was  coarse  39 

Here  come  I  to  my  own  again 150 

Here  we  go  in  a  flung  festoon 79 

His  spots  are  the  joy  of  the  Leopard:  his  horns 

are  the  Buffalo's  pride 234 

'How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  a  little  child  at  play?'  63 


I  am  the  land  of  Lheir  fathers 

I  am  the  Most  Wise  Baviaan,  saying  in  most  wise 
tones 


183 


INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES 

PAGE 

I  closed  and  drew  for  my  love's  sake   ....  18 

*If  I  have  taken  the  common  clay'      ....  87 

If  I  were  hanged  on  the  highest  hill     ....  217 

I  followed  my  Duke  ere  I  was  a  lover ....  21 

If  Thought  can  reach  to  Heaven 166 

If  war  were  won  by  feasting 109 

If  you  can  keep  your  head  when  all  about  you    .  145 

If  you  wake  at  midnight,  and  hear  a  horse's  feet  245 

I  have  been  given  my  charge  to  keep  ....  52 

I  keep  six  honest  serving-men 184 

I  know  not  in  Whose  hands  are  laid  ....  153 
I  met  my  mates  in  the  morning  (and  oh,  but  I  am 

old!) 159 

I'm  just  in  love  with  all  these  three     ....  11 

In  the  days  of  lace-ruflles,  perukes,  and  brocade.  61 

In  the  daytime,  when  she  moved  about  me  .  .  38 
'  I  see  the  grass  shake  in  the  sun  for  leagues  on 

either  hand' 33 

It  is  always  a  temptation  to  an  armed  and  agile 

nation 94 

It  was  not  in  the  open  fight 37 

I've  never  sailed  the  Amazon 185 

I  was  very  well  pleased  with  what  I  knowed.       .  13 

I  will  let  loose  against  you  the  fleet-footed  vines .  220 
I  will  remember  what  I  was,  I  am  sick  of  rope  and 

chain 238 

Jubal  sang  of  the  Wrath  of  God Ill 

Land  of  our  Birth,  we  pledge  to  thee  ....  134 
Legate,  I  had  the  news  last  night — my  cohort  or- 
dered home 5 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

PAGE 

'Less  you  want  your  toes  trod  off  you'd  better  get 

back  at  once 143 

'Let  us  now  praise  famous  men' 114 

Life's  all  getting  and  giving 198 

Look,  you  have  cast  out  Love!     What  Gods  are 

these 35 

Man  goes  to  Man !     Cry  the  challenge  through  the 

Jungle! .  236 

Mithras,  God  of  the  Morning,  our  trumpets  waken 

the  Wall! 53 

Much  I  owe  to  the  Land  that  grew      ....  158 

My  brother  kneels,  so  saith  Kabir 279 

My  father's  father  saw  il  not 89 

My  new  cut  ashlar  takes  the  light 46 

'My  son,'  said  the  Norman  Baron,  'I  am  dying, 

and  you  will  be  heir' 23 

Naked  and  gray  the  Cotswolds  stand  ....  125 
Neither  the  harps  nor  the  crowns  amused,  nor  the 

cherubs'  dove- winged  races 170 

Not  though  you  die  to-night,  0  Sweet,  and  wail .  37 

Not  with  an  outcry  to  Allah  nor  any  complaining  67 

Now  Chil  the  Kite  brings  home  the  night  234 
Now,  it  is  not  good  for  the  Christian's  health  to 

hustle  the  Aryan  brown 84 

Now  this  is  the  Law  of  the  Jungle — as  old  and  as 

true  as  the  sky 117 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom       ....  17 

Of  all  the  trees  that  grow  so  fair 25 

Oh!  hush  thee,  my  baby,  the  night  is  behind  us  .  237 
Oh,  hght  was  the  world  that  he  weighed  in  his 

hands! 152 


INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES 

PAGE 

Oh,  little  did  the  Wolf-Child  care 222 

Oh,  where  are  you  going  to,  all  you  Big  Steamers  254 

Old  Horn  to  All  Atlantic  said 261 

Old  Mother  Laidinwool  had  nigh  twelve  months 

been  dead 27 

Once  a  ripple  came  to  land 208 

Once  on  a  time  was  a  King  anxious  to  understand  225 
Once  we  feared  The  Beast — when  he  followed  us 

we  ran 271 

One  man  in  a  thousand,  Solomon  says       ...  58 

One  moment  past  our  bodies  cast 42 

Our  England  is  a  garden  that  is  full  of  stately 

views 277 

Our  Fathers  in  a  wondrous  age 127 

Our  gloves  are  stiff  with  the  frozen  blood.      .      .  269 

Our  Lord  Who  did  the  Ox  command    ....  44 

Our  sister  sayeth  such  and  such 213 

Over  the  edge  of  the  purple  down 179 

Pit  where  the  buffalo  cooled  his  hide   ....  38 

Prophets  have  honour  all  over  the  Earth  .      .      .  108 

Pussy  can  sit  by  the  fire  and  sing 187 

Queen  Bess  was  Harry's  daughter.     Stand  for- 
ward, partners  all! 174 

Ride  with  an  idle  whip,  ride  with  an  unused  heel  37 

Rome  never  looks  where  she  treads      ....  90 

Roses  red  and  roses  white 207 

See  you  the  ferny  ride  that  steals 8 

She  dropped  the  bar,  she  shot  the  bolt,  she  fed  the 

fire  anew 218 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

PAGE 

Shiv,  who  poured  the  harvest  and  made  the  winds 

to  blow 50 

Shoveoff  from  the  wharf-edge!    Steady!     .      .      .  203 

Singer  and  tailor  am  I 273 

South  and  far  south  below  the  Line     ....  263 

So  we  settled  it  all  when  the  storm  was  done       .  87 
'Stopped  in  the  straight  when  the  race  was  his 

own ! ' 36 

Strangers  drawn  from  the  ends  of  the  earth,  jew- 
elled and  plumed  were  we 15 

Take  of  English  earth  as  much 31 

Tell  it  to  the  locked-up  trees 29 

The  beasts  are  very  wise 140 

The  boats  of  Newhaven  and  Folkestone  and  Dover  103 
The  Bricklayer:  I  tell  this  tale,  which  is  strictly 

true 242 

The  Camel's  hump  is  an  ugly  lump      ....  182 

The  Celt  in  all  his  variants  from  Builth  to  Ballyhoo  69 

The  doors  were  wide,  the  story  saith    ....  141 
The  gull  shall  whistle  in  his  wake,  the  blind  wave 

break  in  fire 113 

The  lark  will  make  her  hymn  to  God  ....  87 

The  Law  whereby  my  lady  moves 211 

The  night  we  felt  the  earth  would  move    .            .  239 
fhe  People  of  the  Eastern  Ice,  they  are  melting 

hke  the  snow 238 

There  are  four  good  legs  to  my  Father's  Chair    .  122 

There  are  three  degrees  of  bliss 155 

There  is  pleasure  in  the  wet  wet  clay  ....  85 

rhere  is  sorrow  enough  in  the  natural  way           .  164 

There  runs  a  road  by  Merrow  Down    ....  172 


INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES 

There's  a  convict  more  in  the  Central  Jail 
There's  no  wind  along  these  seas    .... 
There  was  a  strife  'twixt  man  and  maid    . 
There  was  never  a  Queen  like  Balkis    . 
There  were  three  friends  that  buried  the  fourth 
These  are  the  Four  that  are  never  content,  that 

have  never  been  fdled  since  the  Dews  began 
These  were  my  companions  going  forth  by  night 
The  Stranger  within  my  gate  .... 
The  stream  is  shrunk — the  pool  is  dry 
The  torn  boughs  trailing  o'er  the  tusks  aslant 
The  Weald  is  good,  the  Downs  are  best  . 
The  wind  took  off  with  the  sunset . 
The  wolf-cub  at  even  lay  hid  in  the  corn 
The  world  hath  set  its  heavy  yoke. 
They  burnt  a  corpse  upon  the  sand 
They  killed  a  child  to  please  the  Gods 
They  shut  the  road  through  the  woods 
This  I  saw  when  the  rites  were  done  . 
This  is  the  mouth-filling  song  of  the  race  that 

run  by  a  Boomer 

Three  things  make  earth  unquiet    . 
Thrones,  Powers,  Dominions,  Peoples,  Kings 
To-night,  God  knows  what  thing  shall  tide 

To  the  Heavens  above  us 

'Twas  not  while  England's  sword  unsheathed 
Twenty  bridges  from  Tower  to  Kew    . 

Unto  whose  use  the  pregnant  suns  are  poised 

Valour  and  Innocence 

Veil  them,  cover  them,  wall  them  round   . 

We  be  the  Gods  of  the  East        


was 


PAGE 

141 
267 

85 
188 

88 

236 
65 
96 

235 

140 
12 

224 
87 
36 
37 

139 
10 
83 

185 
120 
81 
38 
161 
106 
129 

144 

176 
235 

86 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

PAGE 

We  lenl  Lo  Alexander  the  strength  of  Hercules  136 

We  meet  in  an  evil  land 83 

We  were  taken  from  the  ore-bed  and  the  mine  250 

What  is  a  woman  that  you  forsake  her      ...  56 

What  is  the  moral?  Who  rides  may  read  ...  60 

What  of  the  hunting,  hunter  bold?       ....  235 

'  What's  that  that  hirples  at  my  side?'       ...  259 

When  a  lover  hies  abroad 85 

When  firsl  by  Eden  Tree 131 

When  Horse  and  Rider  each  can  trust  the  other 

everywhere 232 

When  I  left  Rome  for  Lalage's  sake     ....  98 

When  Rome  was  rotten-ripe  to  her  fall     ...  92 

When  the  cabin  port-holes  are  dark  and  green     .  182 

When  the  drums  begin  to  beat 265 

When  the  Earth  was  sick  and  the  Skies  were  gray  35 

When  the  Great  Ark,  in  Vigo  Bay 105 

When  the  robust  and  Brass-bound  Man  commis- 
sioned first  for  sea 240 

When  the  water's  countenance 252 

When  ye  say  to  Tabaqui,  'My  Brother!'  when  ye 

call  the  Hyena  to  meat 239 

Where's  the  lamp  that  Hero  ht 156 

W^ho  gives  him  the  Bath? 54 

Who  knows  the  heart  of  the  Christian?     How  does 

he  reason? 73 

Yet  at  the  last,  ere  our  spearmen  had  found  him.  88 

You  mustn't  swim  till  you're  six  weeks  old  238 

Your  jar  of  Virginny 100 

Your  tiercel's  too  long  at  hack,  Sir.     He's  no  eyass  192 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 


CITIES  AND  THRONES  AND  POWERS 

CITIES  and  Thrones  and  Powers, 
Stand  in  Time's  eye, 
Almost  as  long  as  flowers, 
Which  daily  die; 
But,  as  new  buds  put  forth 

To  glad  new  men, 
Out  of  the  spent  and  unconsidered  Earth 
The  Cities  rise  again. 

This  season's  Daffodil, 

She  never  hears. 
What  change,  what  chance,  what  chill, 

Cut  down  last  year's: 
But  with  bold  countenance, 

And  knowledge  small. 
Esteems  her  seven  days'  continuance. 

To  be  perpetual. 

So  Time  that  is  o'er-kind, 

To  all  that  be. 
Ordains  us  e'en  as  blind, 

As  bold  as  she: 
That  in  our  very  death. 

And  burial  sure, 
Shadow  to  shadow,  well-persuaded,  saith, 

'See  how  our  works  endure!' 
3 


I 


THE  RECALL 

AM  the  land  of  their  fathers. 

In  me  the  virtue  stays. 
I  will  bring  back  my  children, 

After  certain  days. 


Under  their  feet  in  the  grasses 

My  clinging  magic  runs. 
They  shall  return  as  strangers. 

They  shall  remain  as  sons. 

Over  their  heads  in  the  branches 
Of  their  new-bought,  ancient  trees, 

I  weave  an  incantation 
And  draw  them  to  my  knees. 

Scent  of  smoke  in  the  evening. 
Smell  of  rain  in  the  night, 

The  hours,  the  days  and  the  seasons. 
Order  their  souls  aright; 

Till  I  make  plain  the  meaning 
Of  all  my  thousand  years — 

Till  I  fill  their  hearts  with  knowledge. 
While  I  fill  their  eyes  with  tears. 


THE  CENTURION'S  SONG 

LEGATE,  I  had  the  news  last  night — my  cohort  ordered 
home 
-^   By  ship  to  Portus  Itius  and  thence  by  road  to 
Rome. 
I've  marched  the  companies  aboard,  the  arms  are  stowed 

below : 
Now  let  another  take  my  sword.     Command  me  not  to 
go! 


I've  served  in  Britain  forty  years,  from  Vectis  to  the 

Wall, 
I  have  none  other  home  than  this,  nor  any  life  at  all. 
Last  night  I  did  not  understand,  but,  now  the  hour  draws 

near 
That  calls  me  to  my  native  land,  I  feel  that  land  is  here. 


Here  where,  men  say,  my  name  was  made,  here  where 
my  work  was  done, 

Here  where  my  dearest  dead  are  laid — my  wife — my 
wife  and  son 

Here  where  time,  custom,  grief  and  toil,  age,  memory, 
service,  love. 

Have  rooted  me  m  British  soil.     Ah,  how  shall  I  re- 
move? 

5 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

For  me  this  land,  that  sea,  these  airs,  those  folk  and 
fields  suffice. 

What  purple  Southern  pomp  can  match  our  changeful 
Northern  skies, 

Black  with  December  snows  unshed  or  pearled  with 
August  haze, 

The  clanging  arch  of  steel-gray  March,  or  June's  long- 
lighted  days? 

You'll  follow  widening  Rhodanus  till  vine  and  olive  lean 
Aslant  before  the  sunny  breeze  that  sweeps  Nemausus 

clean 
To  Arelate's  triple  gate;  but  let  me  linger  on. 
Here  where  our  stiff-necked  British  oaks  confront  Eur- 

oclydon ! 

You'll  take  the  old  Aurelian  Road  through  shore- 
descending  pines 

Where,  blue  as  any  peacock's  neck,  the  Tyrrhene  Ocean 
shines. 

You'll  go  where  laurel  crowns  are  won,  but  will  you  e'er 
forget 

The  scent  of  hawthorn  in  the  sun,  or  bracken  in  the  wet? 

Let  me  work  here  for  Britain's  sake — at  any  task  you 

will — 
A  marsh  to  drain,  a  road  to  make  or  native  troops  to 

drill. 
Some  Western  camp  (I  know  the  Pict)  or  granite  Border 

keep. 
Mid  seas  of  heather  derelict,  where  our  old  messmates 

sleep. 


THE  CENTURION'S  SONG 

Legate,  I  come  to  you  in  tears — My  cohort  ordered 

home ! 
I've  served  in  Britain  forty  years.     What  should  I  do 

in  Rome? 
Here  is  my  heart,  my  soul,  my  mind — the  only  life  I 

know. — 
I  cannot  leave  it  all  behind.     Command  me  not  to  go! 


r 


s 


PUCK'S  SONG 

EE  you  the  ferny  ride  that  steals 
Into  the  oak-woods  far? 
0  that  was  whence  they  hewed  the  keels 
That  rolled  to  Trafalgar. 


And  mark  you  where  the  ivy  clings 
To  Bayham's  mouldering  walls? 

O  there  we  cast  the  stout  railings 
That  stand  around  St.  Paul's. 

See  you  the  dimpled  track  that  runs 
All  hollow  through  the  wheat? 

0  that  was  where  they  hauled  the  guns 
That  smote  King  Philip's  fleet. 

Out  of  the  Weald,  the  secret  Weald, 

Men  sent  in  ancient  years. 
The  horse-shoes  red  at  Flodden  Field, 

The  arrows  at  Poitiers. 

See  you  our  little  mill  that  clacks, 

So  busy  by  the  brook? 
She  has  ground  her  corn  and  paid  her  tax 

Ever  since  Domesday  Book. 

8 


PUCK'S  SONG 

See  you  our  stilly  woods  of  oak? 

And  the  dread  ditch  beside? 
0  that  was  where  the  Saxons  broke 

On  the  day  that  Harold  died. 

See  you  the  windy  levels  spread 

About  the  gates  of  Rye? 
0  that  was  where  the  Northmen  fled, 

When  Alfred's  ships  came  by. 

See  you  our  pastures  wide  and  lone, 

Where  the  red  oxen  browse? 
0  there  was  a  City  thronged  and  known, 

Ere  London  boasted  a  house. 

And  see  you,  after  rain,  the  trace 
Of  mound  and  ditch  and  wall? 

0  that  was  a  Legion's  camping-place, 
When  Caesar  sailed  from  Gaul. 

And  see  you  marks  that  show  and  fade, 
Like  shadows  on  the  Downs? 

0  they  are  the  lines  the  Flint  Men  made, 
To  guard  their  wondrous  towns. 

Trackway  and  Camp  and  City  lost. 
Salt  Marsh  where  now  is  corn; 

Old  Wars,  old  Peace,  old  Arts  that  cease. 
And  so  was  England  born ! 

She  is  not  any  common  Earth, 

Water  or  wood  or  air, 
But  Merlin's  Isle  of  Gramarye, 

Where  you  and  I  will  fare. 

9 


THE  WAY  THROUGH  THE  WOODS 

THEY  shut  the  road  through  the  woods 
Seventy  years  ago. 
Weather  and  rain  have  undone  it  again, 
And  now  you  would  never  know 
There  was  once  a  road  through  the  woods 

Before  they  planted  the  trees. 
It  is  underneath  the  coppice  and  heath, 
And  the  thin  anemones. 
Only  the  keeper  sees 
That,  where  the  ring-dove  broods, 

And  the  badgers  roll  at  ease, 
There  was  once  a  road  through  the  woods. 

Yet,  if  you  enter  the  woods 

Of  a  summer  evening  late. 
When  the  night-air  cools  on  the  trout-ringed  pools 

Where  the  otter  whistles  his  mate 
(They  fear  not  men  in  the  woods, 

Because  they  see  so  few), 
You  will  hear  the  beat  of  a  horse's  feet, 

And  the  swish  of  a  skirt  in  the  dew. 

Steadily  cantering  through 
The  misty  solitudes, 

As  though  they  perfectly  knew 
The  old  lost  road  through  the  woods     .     .     . 
But  there  is  no  road  through  the  woods. 


10 


A  THREE-PART  SONG 

I'M  just  in  love  with  all  these  three, 
The  Weald  and  the  Marsh  and  the  Down  countrie; 
Nor  I  don't  know  which  I  love  the  most, 
The  Weald  or  the  Marsh  or  the  white  chalk  coast ! 

I've  buried  my  heart  in  a  ferny  hill, 
Twix'  a  liddle  low  shaw  an'  a  great  high  gill. 
Oh  hop-bine  yaller  an'  wood-smoke  blue, 
I  reckon  you'll  keep  her  middling  true! 

I've  loosed  my  mind  for  to  out  and  run 
On  a  Marsh  that  was  old  when  Kings  begun. 
Oh  Romney  Level  and  Brenzett  reeds, 
I  reckon  you  know  what  my  mind  needs! 

I've  given  my  soul  to  the  Southdown  grass, 
And  sheep-bells  tinkled  where  you  pass. 
Oh  Firle  an'  Ditchling  an'  sails  at  sea, 
I  reckon  you  keep  my  soul  for  me ! 


11 


THE  RUN  OF  THE  DOWNS 

THE  Weald  is  good,  the  Downs  are  best — 
I'll  give  you  the  run  of  'em,  East  to  West. 
Beachy  Head  and  Winddoor  Hill, 
They  were  once  and  they  are  still, 
Firle,  Mount  Caburn  and  Mount  Harry 
Go  back  as  far  as  sums '11  carry. 
Ditchling  Beacon  and  Ghanctonbury  Ring, 
They  have  looked  on  many  a  thing. 
And  what  those  two  have  missed  between  'em 
I  reckon  Truleigh  Hill  has  seen  'em. 
Highden,  Bignor  and  Duncton  Down 
Knew  Old  England  before  the  Grown. 
Linch  Down,  Treyford  and  Sunwood 
Knew  Old  England  before  the  Flood. 
And  when  you  end  on  the  Hampshire  side — 
Butser's  old  as  Time  and  Tide. 

The  Downs  are  sheep,  the  Weald  is  corn, 
,You  be  glad  you  are  Sussex  born! 


12 


I 


BROOKLAND  ROAD 

WAS  very  well  pleased  with  what  I  knowed, 

I  reckoned  myself  no  fool — 
Till  I  met  with  a  maid  on  the  Brookland  Road, 

That  turned  me  back  to  school. 

Low  down — low  down! 

Where  the  liddle  green  lanterns  shine — 
0  maids,  I've  done  with  'ee  all  but  one, 

And  she  can  never  be  mine! 


'Twas  right  in  the  middest  of  a  hot  June  night, 

With  thunder  duntin'  round, 
And  I  see'd  her  face  by  the  fairy  light 

That  beats  from  off  the  ground. 

She  only  smiled  and  she  never  spoke, 

She  smiled  and  went  away; 
But  when  she'd  gone  my  heart  was  broke 

And  my  wits  was  clean  astray. 

0,  stop  your  ringing  and  let  me  be — 

Let  be,  O  Brookland  bells ! 
You'll  ring  Old  Goodman  ^  out  of  the  sea, 

Before  I  wed  one  else! 

*  Earl  Godwin  of  the  Goodwin  Sands? 
13 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Old  Goodman's  Farm  is  rank  sea  sand. 

And  was  this  thousand  year; 
But  it  shall  turn  to  rich  plough  land 

Before  I  change  my  dear. 

O,  Fairfield  Church  is  water-bound 

From  autumn  to  the  spring; 
But  it  shall  turn  to  high  hill  ground 

Before  my  bells  do  ring. 

O,  leave  me  walk  on  the  Brookland  Road, 
In  the  thunder  and  warm  rain — 

0,  leave  me  look  where  my  love  goed, 
And  p'raps  I'll  see  her  again! 

Low  down — low  down! 

Where  the  liddle  green  lanterns  shine- 
0  maids,  I've  done  with  'ee  all  but  one, 

And  she  can  never  be  mine! 


14 


THE  SACK  OF  THE  GODS 

STRANGERS  drawn  from  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
jewelled  and  plumed  were  we; 
I  was  Lord  of  the  Inca  race,  and  she  was  Queen 
of  the  Sea. 
Under  the  stars  beyond  our  stars  where  the  new-forged 

meteors  glow. 
Hotly  we  stormed  Valhalla,  a  million  years  ago. 

Ever'neath  high  Valhalla  Hall  the  well-tuned  horns  begin 
When  the  swords  are  out  in  the  underworld,  and  the 

weary  Gods  come  in. 
Ever  through  high  Valhalla  Gate  the  Patient  Angel  goes, 
He  opens  the  eyes  that  are  blind  with  hate — he  joins  the 

hands  of  foes. 

Dust  of  the  stars  was  under  our  feet,  glitter  of  stars 

above — 
Wrecks  of  our  wrath  dropped  reeling  down  as  we  fought 

and  we  spurned  and  we  strove. 
Worlds  upon  worlds  we  tossed  aside,  and  scattered  them 

to  and  fro. 
The  night  that  we  stormed  Valhalla,  a  million  years  ago ! 

They  are  forgiven  as  they  forgive  all  those  dark  wounds 

and  deep, 
Their  beds  are  made  on  the  lap  of  Time  and  they  lie 

down  and  sleep. 

15 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

They  are  forgiven  as  they  forgive  all  those  old  wounds 

that  bleed, 
They  shut  their  eyes  from  their  worshippers.     They 

sleep  till  the  world  has  need. 

She  with  the  star  I  had  marked  for  my  own — I  with  my 
set  desire — 

Lost  in  the  loom  of  the  Night  of  Nights — lighted  by 
worlds  afire — 

Met  in  a  war  against  the  Gods  where  the  headlong  me- 
teors glow, 

Hewing  our  way  to  Valhalla,  a  million  years  ago ! 

They  will  come  back — come  back  again,  as  long  as  the 

red  Earth  rolls. 
He  never  wasted  a  leaf  or  a  tree.     Do  you  think  He 

would  squander  souls? 


16 


N 


THE  KINGDOM 

OW  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom, 
And  the  State  is  thus  and  thus; 
Our  legions  wait  at  the  Palace  gate — 
Little  it  profits  us, 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom! 


Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom, 
And  the  Crown  is  ours  to  take — 

With  a  naked  sword  at  the  Council  board, 
And  under  the  throne  the  snake. 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom! 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom, 
And  the  Realm  is  ours  by  right. 

With  shame  and  fear  for  our  daily  cheer. 
And  heaviness  at  night. 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom! 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom, 

But  my  love's  eyelids  fall. 
All  that  I  wrought  for,  all  that  I  fought  for, 

Delight  her  nothing  at  all. 
My  crown  is  of  withered  leaves, 
For  she  sits  in  the  dust  and  grieves. 

Now  we  are  come  to  our  Kingdom! 

17 


I 


TARRANT  MOSS 

CLOSED  and  drew  for  my  love's  sake 

That  now  is  false  to  me, 
And  I  slew  the  Reiver  of  Tarrant  Moss 

And  set  Dumeny  free. 


They  have  gone  down,  they  have  gone  down, 

They  are  standing  all  arow — 
Twenty  knights  in  the  peat-water, 

That  never  struck  a  blow! 

Their  armour  shall  not  dull  nor  rust, 

Their  flesh  shall  not  decay, 
For  Tarrant  Moss  holds  them  in  trust. 

Until  the  Judgment  Day. 

Their  soul  went  from  them  in  their  youth. 

Ah  God,  that  mine  had  gone, 
Whenas  I  leaned  on  my  love's  truth 

And  not  on  my  sword  alone! 

Whenas  I  leaned  on  lad's  belief 

And  not  on  my  naked  blade — 
And  I  slew  a  thief,  and  an  honest  thief. 

For  the  sake  of  a  worthless  maid. 
18 


TARRANT  MOSS 

They  have  laid  the  Reiver  low  in  his  place, 

They  have  set  me  up  on  high, 
But  the  twenty  knights  in  the  peat-water 

Are  luckier  than  I. 


And  ever  they  give  me  gold  and  praise 

And  ever  I  mourn  my  loss — 
For  I  struck  the  blow  for  my  false  love's  sake 

And  not  for  the  Men  of  the  Moss! 


19 


E 


WILLIAM  THE  CONQUEROR'S  SONG 

NGLAND'S   on  the    anvil — hear   the   hammers 
ring- 
Clanging  from  the  Severn  to  the  Tyne ! 
Never  was  a  blacksmith  like  our  Norman  King — 
England's  being  hammered,  hammered,  ham- 
mered into  line! 


England's  on  the  anvil!     Heavy  are  the  blows! 

(But  the  work  will  be  a  marvel  when  it's  done) 
Little  bits  of  Kingdoms  cannot  stand  against  their  foes. 

England's   being  hammered,   hammered,   ham- 
mered into  one! 

There  shall  be  one  people — it  shall  serve  one  Lord — 

(Neither  Priest  nor  Baron  shall  escape!) 
It  shall  have  one  speech  and  law,  soul  and  strength  and 
sword. 
England's  being  hammered,   hammered,   ham- 
mered into  shape! 


20 


I 


SIR  RICHARD'S  SONG 
(A.D.  1066) 

FOLLOWED  my  Duke  ere  I  was  a  lover. 
To  take  from  England  fief  and  fee; 

But  now  this  game  is  the  other  way  over — 
But  now  England  hath  taken  me! 


I  had  my  horse,  my  shield  and  banner, 
And  a  boy's  heart,  so  whole  and  free; 

But  now  I  sing  in  another  manner — 
But  now  England  hath  taken  me! 

As  for  my  Father  in  his  tower, 
Asking  news  of  my  ship  at  sea; 

He  will  remember  his  own  hour — 
Tell  him  England  hath  taken  me! 

As  for  my  Mother  in  her  bower. 
That  rules  my  Father  so  cunningly, 

She  will  remember  a  maiden's  power — 
Tell  her  England  hath  taken  me! 

As  for  my  Brother  in  Rouen  City, 
A  nimble  and  naughty  page  is  he, 

But  he  will  come  to  suffer  and  pity — 
Tell  him  England  hath  taken  me! 
21 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

As  for  my  little  Sister  waiting 

In  the  pleasant  orchards  of  Normandie, 
Tell  her  youth  is  the  time  for  mating — 

Tell  her  England  hath  taken  me! 

As  for  my  Comrades  in  camp  and  highway. 
That  lift  their  eyebrows  scornfully, 

Tell  them  their  way  is  not  my  way — 
Tell  them  England  hath  taken  me! 

Kings  and  Princes  and  Barons  famed, 
Knights  and  Captains  in  your  degree; 

Hear  me  a  little  before  I  am  blamed — 
Seeing  England  hath  taken  me! 

Howso  great  man's  strength  be  reckoned, 
There  are  two  things  he  cannot  flee; 

Love  is  the  first,  and  Death  is  the  second — 
And  Love  in  England  hath  taken  me! 


22 


M 


THE  NORMAN  BARON 
(A.D.  1100) 

^  ^     ■'  Y  son,'  said  the  Norman  Baron,  *  I  am  dying,  and 
you  will  be  heir 
To  all  the  broad  acres  in  England  that  William 
gave  me  for  my  share 
When  we  conquered  the  Saxon  at  Hastings,  and  a  nice 

little  handful  it  is. 
But  before  you  go  over  to  rule  it  I  want  you  to  under- 
stand this: — 


'The  Saxon  is  not  hke  us  Normans.     His  manners  are 

not  so  polite, 
But  he  never  means  anything  serious  till  he  talks  about 

justice  and  right; 
When  he  stands  like  an  ox  in  the  furrow  with  his  sullen 

set  eyes  on  your  own, 
And  grumbles,  "This  isn't  fair  dealing,"  my  son,  leave 

the  Saxon  alone. 


*You  can  horsewhip  your  Gascony  archers,  or  torture 

your  Picardy  spears, 
But  don't  try  that  game  on  the  Saxon — you'll  have  the 

whole  brood  round  your  ears! 

23 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

From  the  richest  old  Thane  in  the  county  to  the  poorest 

chained  serf  in  the  fields, 
They'll  be  at  you  and  on  you  like  hornets,  and,  if  you 

are  wise,  you  will  yield! 

'But  first  you  must  master  their  language,  their  dialect, 

proverbs  and  songs, 
Don't  trust  any  clerk  to  interpret  when  they  come  with 

the  tale  of  their  wrongs. 
Let  them  know  that  you  know  what  they're  saying;  let 

them  feel  that  you  know  what  to  say; 
Yes,  even  when  you  want  to  go  hunting,  hear  them  out 

if  it  takes  you  all  day. 

'They'll  drink  every  hour  of  the  daylight  and  poach 
every  hour  of  the  dark, 

It's  the  sport  not  the  rabbits  they're  after  (we've  plenty 
of  game  in  the  park). 

Don't  hang  them  or  cut  off  their  fingers.  That's  waste- 
ful as  well  as  unkind, 

For  a  hard-bitten.  South-country  poacher  makes  the 
best  man-at-arms  you  can  find. 

'Appear  with  your  wife  and  the  children  at  their  wed- 
dings and  funerals  and  feasts; 

Be  polite  but  not  friendly  to  Bishops;  be  good  to  all 
poor  parish-priests; 

Say  "we,"  "us"  and  "ours"  when  you're  talking  in- 
stead of  "you  fellows"  and  "I." 

Don't  ride  over  seeds;  keep  your  temper;  and  never  you 
tell  'em  a  lie!' 


24 


A  TREE  SONG 
(A.D.  1200) 

OF  all  the  trees  that  grow  so  fair, 
Old  England  to  adorn, 
Greater  are  none  beneath  the  Sun, 
Than  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn. 
Sing  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn,  good  sirs 

(All  of  a  Midsummer  morn !) 
Surely  we  sing  no  little  thing. 
In  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn! 


Oak  of  the  Clay  lived  many  a  day 

Or  ever  ^neas  began; 
Ash  of  the  Loam  was  a  lady  at  home 

When  Brut  was  an  outlaw  man. 
Thorn  of  the  Down  saw  New  Troy  Town 

(From  which  was  London  born) ; 
Witness  hereby  the  ancientry 

Of  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn! 


Yew  that  is  old  in  churchyard  mould, 
He  breedeth  a  mighty  bow. 

Alder  for  shoes  do  wise  men  choose. 
And  beech  for  cups  also. 

25 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

But  when  ye  have  killed,  and  your  bowl  is  spilled, 
And  your  shoes  are  clean  outworn, 

Back  ye  must  speed  for  all  that  ye  need, 
To  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn! 

Ellum  she  hateth  mankind,  and  waiteth 

Till  every  gust  be  laid, 
To  drop  a  limb  on  the  head  of  him 

That  anyway  trusts  her  shade: 
But  whether  a  lad  be  sober  or  sad, 

Or  mellow  with  ale  from  the  horn, 
He  will  take  no  wrong  when  he  lieth  along 

'Neath  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn! 

Oh,  do  not  tell  the  Priest  our  plight. 

Or  he  would  call  it  a  sin; 
But — we  have  been  out  in  the  woods  all  night, 

A-conjuring  Summer  in! 
And  we  bring  you  news  by  word  of  mouth — 

Good  news  for  cattle  and  corn — 
Now  is  the  Sun  come  up  from  the  South, 

With  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn! 

Sing  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn,  good  sirs 

(All  of  a  Midsummer  morn!) 
England  shall  bide  till  Judgment  Tide, 

By  Oak,  and  Ash,  and  Thorn ! 


26 


OLD  MOTHER  LAIDINWOOL 

OLD  Mother  Laidinwool  had  nigh  twelve  months 
been  dead. 
She  heard  the  hops  was  doing  well  an'  so  popped 
up  her  head, 
For  she  said: — 'The  lads  I've  picked  with  when  I  was 

young  and  fair, 
They're  bound  to  be  at  hopping  and  I'm  bound  to  meet 
'em  there!' 

Let  me  up  and  go 

Back  to  the  work  I  know,  Lord! 

Back  to  the  work  I  know,  Lord! 

For  it's  dark  where  I  lie  down,  My  Lord! 

An'  it's  dark  where  I  lie  down! 

Old  Mother  Laidinwool,  she  give  her  bones  a  shake. 
An'  trotted  down  the  churchyard  path  as  fast  as  she 

could  make. 
She  met  the  Parson  walking,  but  she  says  to  him,  says 

she: — 
*  Oh  don't  let  no  one  trouble  for  a  poor  old  ghost  like  me ! ' 

'Twas  all  a  warm  September  an'  the  hops  had  flourished 

grand, 
She  saw  the  folks  get  into  'em  with  stockin's  on  their 

hands; 

27 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

An'  none  of  'em  was  foreigners  but  all  which  she  had 

known, 
And  old  Mother  Laidinwool  she  blessed  'em  every  one. 

She  saw  her  daughters  picking  an'  their  childern  them 

beside, 
An'  she  moved  among  the  babies  an'  she  stilled  'em 

when  they  cried. 
She  saw  their  clothes  was  bought  not  begged,  an'  they 

was  clean  an'  fat, 
An'  Old  Mother  Laidinwool  she  thanked  the  Lord  for 

that. 

Old  Mother  Laidinwool  she  waited  on  all  day 
Until  it  come  too  dark  to  see  an'  people  went  away — 
Until  it  come  too  dark  to  see  an'  lights  began  to  show, 
An'  old  Mother  Laidinwool  she  hadn't  where  to  go. 

Old  Mother  Laidinwool  she  give  her  bones  a  shake, 
An'  trotted  back  to  churchyard-mould  as  fast  as  she 

could  make. 
She  went  where  she  was  bidden  to  an'  there  laid  down 

her  ghost,     .     .     . 
An '  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  you  in  the  Day  you  need  it 

most! 

Let  me  in  again. 

Out  of  the  wet  an'  rain.  Lord! 

Out  of  the  dark  an'  rain.  Lord! 

For  it's  best  as  you  shall  say.  My  Lord! 

An'  it's  best  as  you  shall  say! 


28 


CUCKOO  SONG 

(Spring  begins  in  Southern  England  on  the  14th  April, 
on  which  date  the  Old  Woman  lets  the  Cuckoo  out  oi 
her  basket  at  Heathfield  Fair — locally  known  as  Heffle 
Cuckoo  Fair.) 

TELL  it  to  the  locked-up  trees, 
Cuckoo,  bring  your  song  here! 
Warrant,  Act  and  Summons,  please. 
For  Spring  to  pass  along  here! 
Tell  old  Winter,  if  he  doubt, 

Tell  him  squat  and  square — a! 
Old  Woman! 
Old  W^oman! 

Old  Woman's  let  the  Cuckoo  out 
At  Heffle  Cuckoo  Fair — a! 

March  has  searched  and  April  tried — 

'Tisn't  long  to  May  now. 
Not  so  far  to  Whitsuntide 

And  Cuckoo's  come  to  stay  now! 
Hear  the  valiant  fellow  shout 

Down  the  orchard  bare — a! 
Old  Woman! 
Old  Woman! 
Old  Woman's  let  the  Cuckoo  out 

At  Heffle  Cuckoo  Fair — a! 
29 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

When  your  heart  is  young  and  gay 

And  the  season  rules  it — 
Work  your  works  and  play  your  play 

'Fore  the  Autumn  cools  it! 
Kiss  you  turn  and  turn  about, 

But  my  lad,  beware — a! 
Old  Woman! 
Old  Woman! 
Old  Woman's  let  the  Cuckoo  out 

At  Heffle  Cuckoo  Fair — a! 


30 


A  CHARM 

TAKE  of  English  earth  as  much 
As  either  hand  may  rightly  clutch. 
In  the  taking  of  it  breathe 
Prayer  for  all  who  lie  beneath. 
Not  the  great  nor  well-bespoke. 
But  the  mere  uncounted  folk 
Of  whose  life  and  death  is  none 
Report  or  lamentation. 

Lay  that  earth  upon  thy  heart. 
And  thy  sickness  shall  depart! 

It  shall  sweeten  and  make  whole 
Fevered  breath  and  festered  soul; 
It  shall  mightily  restrain 
Over-busy  hand  and  brain; 
It  shall  ease  thy  mortal  strife 
'Gainst  the  immortal  woe  of  life, 
Till  thyself  restored  shall  prove 
By  what  grace  the  Heavens  do  move. 

Take  of  English  flowers  these — 
Spring's  full-faced  primroses, 
Summer's  wild  wide-hearted  rose. 
Autumn's  wall-flower  of  the  close. 
And,  thy  darkness  to  illume, 
Winter's  bee-thronged  ivy-bloom. 
31 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Seek  and  serve  them  where  they  bide 
From  Candlemas  to  Christmas-tide, 
For  these  simples,  used  aright, 
Can  restore  a  failing  sight. 

These  shall  cleanse  and  purify 
Webbed  and  inward-turning  eye; 
These  shall  show  thee  treasure  hid. 
Thy  familiar  fields  amid; 
And  reveal  (which  is  thy  need) 
Every  man  a  King  indeed ! 


32 


THE  PRAIRIE 

*  T  SEE  the  grass  shake  in  the  sun  for  leagues  on  either 
I       hand, 

A  I  see  a  river  loop  and  run  about  a  treeless  land — 
An  empty  plain,  a  steely  pond,  a  distance  diamond-clear, 
And  low  blue  naked  hills  beyond.     And  what  is  that  to 
fear?' 

'  Go  softly  by  that  river-side  or,  when  you  would  depart, 
You'll  fmd  its  every  winding  tied  and  knotted  round 

your  heart. 
Be  wary  as  the  seasons  pass,  or  you  may  ne'er  outrun 
The  wind  that  sets  that  yellowed  grass  a-shiver  'neath 

the  Sun.' 

*I  hear  the  summer  storm  outblown — the  drip  of  the 
grateful  wheat. 

I  hear  the  hard  trail  telephone  a  far-olT  horse's  feet. 

I  hear  the  horns  of  Autumn  blow  to  the  wildfowl  over- 
head; 

And  I  hear  the  hush  before  the  snoAv.  And  what  is  that 
to  dread?' 

*Take  heed   what  spell  the  lightning  weaves — what 

charm  the  echoes  shape — 
Or,  bound  among  a  million  sheaves,  your  soul  may  not 

escape. 

33 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Bar  home  the  door  of  summer  nights  lest  those  high 

planets  drown 
The  memory  of  near  delights  in  all  the  longed-for  town.' 

'What  need  have  I  to  long  or  fear?     Now,  friendly,  I 

behold 
My  faithful  seasons  robe  the  year  in  silver  and  in  gold. 
Now  I  possess  and  am  possessed  of  the  land  where  I 

wonid  be, 
And  the  curve  of  half  Earth's  generous  breast  shall 

soothe  and  ravish  me!' 


34 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 
Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills 

LOOK,  you  have  cast  out  Love !    What  Gods  are  these 
You  bid  me  please? 
-^   The  Three  in  One,  the  One  in  Three?     Not  so! 
To  my  own  Gods  I  go. 
It  may  be  they  shall  give  me  greater  ease 
Than  your  cold  Christ  and  tangled  Trinities. 

'  Lispeth.' 

When  the  Earth  was  sick  and  the  Skies  were  gray. 

And  the  woods  were  rotted  with  rain. 
The  Dead  Man  rode  through  the  autumn  day 

To  visit  his  love  again. 

His  love  she  neither  saw  nor  heard, 

So  heavy  was  her  shame; 
And  tho'  the  babe  within  her  stirred 

She  knew  not  that  he  came. 

*The  Other  Man.' 


Cry  'Murder'  in  the  market-place  and  each 
Will  turn  upon  his  neighbour  anxious  eyes 
That  ask — 'Art  thou  the  man?'     We  hunted  Cain 

35 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Some  centuries  ago  across  the  world. 

This  bred  the  fear  our  own  misdeeds  maintain 

To-day. 

'His  Wedded  Wife,' 

Go,  stalk  the  red  deer  o'er  the  heather, 

Ride,  follow  the  fox  if  you  can ! 
But,  for  pleasure  and  profit  together, 

Allow  me  the  hunting  of  Man— 
The  chase  of  the  Human,  the  search  for  the  Soul 

To  its  ruin — the  hunting  of  Man. 

'Pig.' 

'  Stopped  in  the  straight  when  the  race  was  his  own ! 
Look  at  him  cutting  it — cur  to  the  bone!' 
'Ask  ere  the  youngster  be  rated  and  chidden 
What  did  he  carry  and  how  was  he  ridden? 
Maybe  they  used  him  too  much  at  the  start; 
Maybe  Fate's  weight-cloths  are  breaking  his  heart.' 

'In  the  Pride  of  his  Youth.' 

And  some  are  sulky,  while  some  will  plunge. 

[So  ho!  Steady!  Stand  still,  you!] 
Some  you  must  gentle,  and  some  you  must  lunge, 

[There!  There!  Who  wants  to  kill  you?] 
Some — there  are  losses  in  every  trade — 
Will  break  their  hearts  ere  bitted  and  made, 
Will  fight  like  fiends  as  the  rope  cuts  hard, 
And  die  dumb-mad  in  the  breaking-yard. 

'Thrown  Away.' 

The  World  hath  set  its  heavy  yoke 
Upon  the  old  white-bearded  folk 
Who  strive  to  please  the  King. 
36 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

God's  mercy  is  upon  the  young, 
God's  wisdom  in  the  baby  tongue 
That  fears  not  anything. 

'Tods'  Amendment.' 

Not  though  you  die  to-night,  0  Sweet,  and  wail, 

A  spectre  at  my  door, 
Shall  mortal  Fear  make  Love  immortal  fail — 

I  shall  but  love  you  more, 
Who,  from  Death's  House  returning,  give  me  still 
One  moment's  comfort  in  my  matchless  ill. 

'By  Word  of  Mouth.' 

They  burnt  a  corpse  upon  the  sand — 

The  light  shone  out  afar; 

It  guided  home  the  plunging  boats 

That  beat  from  Zanzibar. 

Spirit  of  Fire,  where'er  Thy  altars  rise. 

Thou  art  the  Light  of  Guidance  to  our  eyes! 

'In  Error.' 

Ride  with  an  idle  whip,  ride  with  an  unused  heel, 
But,  once  in  a  way,  there  will  come  a  day 
When  the  colt  must  be  taught  to  feel 
The  lash  that  falls,  and  the  curb  that  galls,  and  the  sting 
of  the  rowelled  steel. 

'The  Conversion  of  Aurelian  McGoggin.' 

It  was  not  in  the  open  fight 

We  threw  away  the  sword, 
But  in  the  lonely  watching 

In  the  darkness  by  the  ford, 
37 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

The  waters  lapped,  the  night-wind  blew. 
Full-armed  the  Fear  was  born  and  grew, 
From  panic  in  the  night. 

'The  Rout  of  the  White  Hussars.' 

In  the  daytime,  when  she  moved  about  me, 

In  the  night,  when  she  was  sleeping  at  my  side, — 
I  was  wearied,  I  was  wearied  of  her  presence, 
Day  by  day  and  night  by  night  I  grew  to  hate  her — 
Would  God  that  she  or  I  had  died! 

'The  Bronckhorst  Divorce  Case.' 

A  stone's  throw  out  on  either  hand 
From  that  well-ordered  road  we  tread, 

And  all  the  world  is  wild  and  strange: 
Churel  and  ghoul  and  Djinn  and  sprite 
Shall  bear  us  company  to-night, 
For  we  have  reached  the  Oldest  Land 

Wherein  the  Powers  of  Darkness  range. 

'In  the  House  of  Suddhoo.' 

To-night,  God  knows  what  thing  shall  tide, 

The  Earth  is  racked  and  fain — 
Expectant,  sleepless,  open-eyed; 
And  we,  who  from  the  Earth  were  made. 

Thrill  with  our  Mother's  pain. 

'False  Dawn.' 

Pit  where  the  buffalo  cooled  his  hide. 
By  the  hot  sun  emptied,  and  blistered  and  dried; 
Log  in  Ihe  reh-grass,  hidden  and  lone; 
Bund  where  the  earth-rat's  mounds  are  strown; 
Cave  in  the  bank  where  the  sly  stream  steals; 

38 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

Aloe  that  stabs  at  the  belly  and  heels, 

Jump  if  you  dare  on  a  steed  untried — 

Safer  it  is  to  go  wide — go  wide ! 

Hark,  from  in  front  where  the  best  men  ride: — 

'Pull  to  the  off,  boys!  Wide!  Go  wide!' 

'  Cupid's  Arrows.' 

He  drank  strong  waters  and  his  speech  was  coarse; 

He  purchased  raiment  and  forbore  to  pay; 
He  stuck  a  trusting  junior  with  a  horse, 

And  won  gymkhanas  in  a  doubtful  way. 
Then,  'twixt  a  vice  and  folly,  turned  aside 
To  do  good  deeds  and  straight  to  cloak  them,  hed. 

*A  Bank  Fraud.' 


39 


COLD  IRON 

^  /^^  OLD  is  for  the  mistress — silver  for  the  maid — 
I  -J  Copper  for  the  craftsman  cunning  at  his  trade.' 
^^^^  'Good!'  said  the  Baron,  sitting  in  his  hall, 

*But  Iron — Cold  Iron — is  master  of  them  all.' 

So  he  made  rebellion  'gainst  the  King  his  liege, 
Camped  before  his  citadel  and  summoned  it  to  siege. 
'Nay!'  said  the  cannoneer  on  the  castle  wall, 
'But  Iron — Cold  Iron — shall  be  master  of  you  all!' 

Woe  for  the  Baron  and  his  knights  so  strong, 
When  the  cruel  cannon-balls  laid  'em  all  along! 
He  was  taken  prisoner,  he  was  cast  in  thrall, 
And  Iron — Cold  Iron — was  master  of  it  all. 

Yet  his  King  spake  kindly  (ah,  how  kind  a  Lord!) 
'What  if  I  release  thee  now  and  give  thee  back  thy 

sword?' 
'Nay!'  said  the  Baron,  'mock  not  at  my  fall, 
For  Iron — Cold  Iron — is  master  of  men  all.' 

'Tears  are  for  the  craven,  prayers  are  for  the  clown — 
Halters  for  the  silly  neck  that  cannot  keep  a  crown.' 
'As  my  loss  is  grievous,  so  my  hope  is  small, 
For  Iron — Cold  Iron — must  be  master  of  men  all!' 

40 


COLD  IRON 

Yet  his  King  made  answer  (few  such  Kings  there  be!) 
'  Here  is  Bread  and  here  is  Wine — sit  and  sup  with  me. 
Eat  and  drink  in  Mary's  Name,  the  whiles  I  do  recall 
How  Iron — Cold  Iron — can  be  master  of  men  all!' 

He  took  the  Wine  and  blessed  It.     He  blessed  and 

brake  the  Bread. 
With  His  own  Hands  He  served  Them,  and  presently 

He  said: 
'See!     These  Hands  they  pierced  with  nails,  outside 

My  city  wall. 
Show  Iron — Cold  Iron — to  be  master  of  men  all! 

'  Wounds  are  for  the  desperate,  blows  are  for  the  strong, 
Balm  and  oil  for  weary  hearts  all  cut  and  bruised  with 

wrong. 
I  forgive  thy  treason — I  redeem  thy  fall — 
For  Iron — Cold  Iron — must  be  master  of  men  all!' 

'Crowns  are  for  the  valiant — sceptres  for  the  bold! 
Thrones  and  powers  for  mighty  men  who  dare  to  take 

and  hold.' 
'Nay!'  said  the  Baron,  kneeling  in  his  hall, 
'But  Iron — Cold  Iron — is  master  of  man  all! 
Iron  out  of  Calvary  is  master  of  men  all!' 


41 


MORNING  SONG  IN  THE  JUNGLE 

ONE  moment  past  our  bodies  cast 
No  shadow  on  the  plain; 
Now  clear  and  black  they  stride  our  track, 
And  we  run  home  again. 
In  morning  hush,  each  rock  and  bush 

Stands  hard,  and  high,  and  raw: 
Then  give  the  Call:  'Good  rest  to  all 
That  keep  the  Jungle  Law!' 

Now  horn  and  pelt  our  peoples  melt 

In  covert  to  abide; 
Now,  crouched  and  still,  to  cave  and  hill 

Our  Jungle  Barons  glide. 
Now,  stark  and  plain,  Man's  oxen  strain, 

That  draw  the  new-yoked  plough; 
Now,  stripped  and  dread,  the  dawn  is  red 

Above  the  lit  talao. 

Ho!     Get  to  lair!     The  sun's  aflare 

Behind  the  breathing  grass: 
And  creaking  through  the  young  bamboo 

The  warning  whispers  pass. 
By  day  made  strange,  the  woods  we  range 

With  blinking  eyes  we  scan; 
While  down  the  skies  the  wild  duck  cries: 

'The  Day— the  Day  to  Man!' 

42 


MORNING  SONG  IN  THE  JUNGLE 

The  dew  is  dried  that  drenched  our  hide, 

Or  washed  about  our  way; 
And  where  we  drank,  the  puddled  bank 

Is  crisping  into  clay. 
The  traitor  Dark  gives  up  each  mark 

Of  stretched  or  hooded  claw; 
Then  hear  the  Call:  'Good  rest  to  all 

That  keep  the  Jungle  Law!' 


43 


A  CAROL 

OUR  Lord  Who  did  the  Ox  command 
To  kneel  to  Judah's  King, 
He  binds  His  frost  upon  the  land 
To  ripen  it  for  Spring — 
To  ripen  it  for  Spring,  good  sirs, 

According  to  His  Word. 
Which  well  must  be  as  ye  can  see — 
And  who  shall  judge  the  Lord? 

When  we  poor  fenmen  skate  the  ice 

Or  shiver  on  the  wold, 
We  hear  the  cry  of  a  single  tree 

That  breaks  her  heart  in  the  cold — 
That  breaks  her  heart  in  the  cold,  good  sirs. 

And  rendeth  by  the  board. 
Which  well  must  be  as  ye  can  see — 

And  who  shall  judge  the  Lord? 

Her  wood  is  crazed  and  little  worth 

Excepting  as  to  burn. 
That  we  may  warm  and  make  our  mirth 

Until  the  Spring  return — 
Until  the  Spring  return,  good  sirs. 

When  people  walk  abroad. 
Which  well  must  be  as  ye  can  see — 

And  who  shall  judge  the  Lord? 
44 


A  CAROL 

God  bless  the  master  of  this  house, 

And  all  who  sleep  therein! 
And  guard  the  fens  from  pirate  folk, 

And  keep  us  all  from  sin, 
To  walk  in  honesty,  good  sirs. 

Of  thought  and  deed  and  word! 
Which  shall  befriend  our  latter  end— 

And  who  shall  judge  the  Lord? 


45 


'MY  NEW-CUT  ASHLAR' 

Y  new-cut  ashlar  takes  the  Ugh  I 

Where  crimson-blank  the  windows  flare. 
By  my  own  work  before  the  night, 
Great  Overseer,  I  make  my  prayer. 


If  there  be  good  in  that  I  wrought, 

Thy  Hand  compelled  it,  Master,  Thine — 

Where  I  have  failed  to  meet  Thy  Thought 
I  know,  through  Thee,  the  blame  was  mine. 

One  instant's  toil  to  Thee  denied 

Stands  all  Eternity's  offence. 
Of  that  I  did  with  Thee  to  guide 

To  Thee,  through  Thee,  be  excellence. 

The  depth  and  dream  of  my  desire, 
The  bitter  paths  wherein  I  stray — 

Thou  knowest  Who  hast  made  the  Fire, 
Thou  knowest  Who  hast  made  the  Clay. 

Who,  lest  all  thought  of  Eden  fade, 

Bring'st  Eden  to  the  craftsman's  brain — 

Godlike  to  muse  o'er  his  own  Trade 
And  manhke  stand  with  God  again! 

46 


'MY  NEW-CUT  ASHLAR' 

One  stone  the  more  swings  into  place 
In  that  dread  Temple  of  Thy  worth. 

It  is  enough  that,  through  Thy  Grace, 
I  saw  nought  common  on  Thy  Earth. 

Take  not  that  vision  from  my  ken — 
Oh  whatsoe'er  may  spoil  or  speed. 

Help  me  to  need  no  aid  from  men 
That  I  may  help  such  men  as  need! 


47 


E 


EDDI'S  SERVICE 
(A.D.  687) 

DDI,  priest  of  St.  Wilfrid 

In  the  chapel  at  Manhood  End, 
Ordered  a  midnight  service 
For  such  as  cared  to  attend. 


But  the  Saxons  were  keeping  Christmas, 
And  the  night  was  stormy  as  well. 

Nobody  came  to  service 
Though  Eddi  rang  the  bell. 

'Wicked  weather  for  walking,' 
Said  Eddi  of  Manhood  End. 

'But  I  must  go  on  with  the  service 
For  such  as  care  to  attend.' 

The  altar-candles  were  lighted, — 

An  old  marsh  donkey  came, 
Bold  as  a  guest  invited. 

And  stared  at  the  guttering  flame. 

The  storm  beat  on  at  the  windows, 
The  water  splashed  on  the  floor. 

And  a  wet  yoke-weary  bullock 
Pushed  in  through  the  open  door. 

48 


EDDI'S  SERVICE 

'How  do  I  know  what  is  i^rcatest, 
How  do  I  know  what  is  least? 

That  is  My  Father's  business,' 
Said  Eddi,  Wilfrid's  priest. 

'But — three  are  gathered  together — 

Listen  to  me  and  attend. 
I  bring  good  news,  my  brethren!' 

Said  Eddi  of  Manhood  End. 

And  he  told  the  Ox  of  a  Manger 

And  a  Stall  in  Bethlehem, 
And  he  spoke  to  the  Ass  of  a  Rider, 

That  rode  to  Jerusalem. 

They  steamed  and  dripped  in  the  chancel, 
They  listened  and  never  stirred, 

While,  just  as  though  they  were  Bishops, 
Eddi  preached  them  The  Word. 

Till  the  gale  blew  off  on  the  marshes 
And  the  windows  showed  the  day, 

And  the  Ox  and  the  Ass  together 
Wheeled  and  clattered  away. 

And  when  the  Saxons  mocked  him, 

Said  Eddi  of  Manhood  End, 
'I  dare  not  shut  His  chapel 

On  such  as  care  to  attend.' 


49 


SHIV  AND  THE  GRASSHOPPER 

SHIV,  who  poured  the  harvest  and  made  the  winds 
to  blow, 
Sitting  at  the  doorways  of  a  day  of  long  ago, 
Gave  to  each  his  portion,  food  and  toil  and  fate, 
From  the  King  upon  the  guddee  to  the  Beggar  at  the 
gate. 
All  things  made  he — Shiva  the  Preserver. 
Mahadeo!  Mahadeo!  He  made  all, — 
Thorn  for  the  camel,  fodder  for  the  kine, 
And  mother's  heart  for  sleepy  head,  0  little  son  of 
mine! 

Wheat  he  gave  to  rich  folk,  millet  to  the  poor, 
Broken  scraps  for  holy  men  that  beg  from  door  to  door; 
Cattle  to  the  tiger,  carrion  to  the  kite, 
And  rags  and  bones  to  wicked  wolves  without  the  wall 

at  night. 
Naught  he  found  too  lofty,  none  he  saw  too  low — 
Parbati  beside  him  watched  them  come  and  go; 
Thought  to  cheat  her  husband,  turning  Shiv  to  jest — 
Stole  the  little  grasshopper  and  hid  it  in  her  breast. 

So  she  tricked  him,  Shiva  the  Preserver. 

Mahadeo!  Mahadeo!  turn  and  see! 

Tall  are  the  camels,  heavy  are  the  kine. 

But  this  was  Least  of  Little  Things,  0  Httle  son  of 
mine! 

50 


SHIV  AND  THE  GRASSHOPPER 

When  the  dole  was  ended,  laughingly  she  said, 
'Master,  of  a  miUion  mouths  is  not  one  unfed?' 
Laughing,  Shiv  made  answer,  'All  have  had  their  part, 
Even  he,  the  little  one,  hidden  next  thy  heart.' 
From  her  breast  she  plucked  it,  Parbati  the  thief. 
Saw  the  Least  of  Little  Things  gnawed  a  new-grown 

leaf! 
Saw  and  feared  and  wondered,  making  prayer  to  Shiv, 
Who  hath  surely  given  meat  to  all  that  live. 
All  things  made  he — Shiva  the  Preserver. 
Mahadeo!  Mahadeo!  He  made  all, — 
Thorn  for  the  camel,  fodder  for  the  kine, 
And  mother's  heart  for  sleepy  head,  0  little  son  of 
mine! 


51 


THE  FAIRIES'  SIEGE 

I  HAVE  been  given  my  charge  to  keep — 
Well  have  I  kept  the  same! 
Playing  with  strife  for  the  most  of  my  life, 
But  this  is  a  different  game. 
I'll  not  fight  against  swords  unseen, 
Or  spears  that  I  cannot  view — 
Hand  him  the  keys  of  the  place  on  your  knees- 
'Tis  the  Dreamer  whose  dreams  come  true! 

Ask  for  his  terms  and  accept  them  at  once, 

Quick,  ere  we  anger  him,  go! 
Never  before  have  I  flinched  from  the  guns. 

But  this  is  a  different  show. 
I'll  not  fight  with  the  Herald  of  God 

(I  know  what  his  Master  can  do!) 
Open  the  gate,  he  must  enter  in  state, 

'Tis  the  Dreamer  whose  dreams  come  true! 

I'd  not  give  way  for  an  Emperor, 

I'd  hold  my  road  for  a  King^ 
To  the  Triple  Crown  I  would  not  bow  down — 

But  this  is  a  different  thing, 
ril  not  fight  with  the  Powers  of  Air, 

Sentry,  pass  him  through! 
Drawbridge  let  fall,  it's  the  Lord  of  us  all, 

The  Dreamer  whose  dreams  come  true! 

52 


A  SONG  TO  MITHRAS 
(Hymn  of  the  30th  Legion:  circa  A.  D.  350) 


M 


ITHRAS,   God  of  the  Morning,  our  trumpets 

waken  the  Wall! 
'  Rome  is  above  the  Nations,  but  Thou  art  over  all ! ' 
Now  as  the  names  are  answered,  and  the  guards  are 

marched  away, 
Mithras,  also  a  soldier,  give  us  strength  for  the  day! 

Mithras,  God  of  the  Noontide,  the  heather  swims  in  the 

heat. 
Our  helmets  scorch  our  foreheads,  our  sandals  burn  our 

feet. 
Now  in  the  ungirt  hour — now  ere  we  blink  and  drowse, 
Mithras,  also  a  soldier,  keep  us  true  to  our  vows! 

Mithras,  God  of  the  Sunset,  low  on  the  Western  main — 
Thou  descending  immortal,  immortal  to  rise  again ! 
Now  when  the  watch  is  ended,  now  when  the  wine  is  drawn ! 
Mithras,  also  a  soldier,  keep  us  pure  till  the  dawn! 

Mithras,  God  of  the  Midnight,  here  where  the  great 

bull  dies, 
Look  on  thy  children  in  darkness.     Oh  take  our  sacrifice ! 
Many  roads  thou  hast  fashioned — all  of  them  lead  to 

the  Light: 
Mithras,  also  a  soldier,  teach  us  to  die  aright! 

53 


THE  NEW  KNIGHTHOOD 

WHO  gives  him  the  Bath? 
'I,'  said  the  wet, 
Rank  Jungle-sweat, 
Til  give  him  the  Bath!' 


Who'll  sing  the  psalms? 

'We,'  said  the  Palms. 

'Ere  the  hot  wind  becalms, 
We'll  sing  the  psalms.' 

Who  lays  on  the  sword? 
'I,'  said  the  Sun, 
'Before  he  has  done, 

I'll  lay  on  the  sword.' 

Who  fastens  his  belt? 
'I,'  said  Short-Rations, 
'I  know  all  the  fashions 

Of  tightening  a  belt!' 

Who  gives  him  his  spur? 

'I,'  said  his  Chief, 

Exacting  and  brief, 
'  I'll  give  him  the  spur.' 
54 


THE  NEW  KNIGHTHOOD 

Who'll  shake  his  hand? 

'I,'  said  the  Fever, 

'And  I'm  no  deceiver, 
I'll  shake  his  hand.' 


Who  brings  him  the  wine? 

*I,'  said  Quinine, 

'It's  a  habit  of  mine. 
I'll  come  with  the  wine.' 

Who'll  put  him  to  proof? 

'I,'  said  All  Earth, 

'Whatever  he's  worth, 
I'll  put  to  the  proof.' 

Who'll  choose  him  for  Knight? 

'I,'  said  his  Mother, 

'Before  any  other. 
My  very  own  Knight.' 

And  after  this  fashion,  adventure  to  seek, 

Was  Sir  Galahad  made — as  it  might  be  last  week! 


55 


HARP  SONG  OF  THE  DANE  WOMEN 


W 


HAT  is  a  woman  that  you  forsake  her, 
And  the  hearth-fire  and  the  home-acre, 
To  go  with  the  old  gray  Widow-maker? 


She  has  no  house  to  lay  a  guest  in — 

But  one  chill  bed  for  all  to  rest  in, 

That  the  pale  suns  and  the  stray  bergs  nest  in. 

She  has  no  strong  white  arms  to  fold  you, 

But  the  ten-times-fmgering  weed  to  hold  you — 

Out  on  the  rocks  where  the  tide  has  rolled  you. 

Yet,  when  the  signs  of  summer  thicken, 

And  the  ice  breaks,  and  the  birch-buds  quicken. 

Yearly  you  turn  from  our  side,  and  sicken — 

Sicken  again  for  the  shouts  and  the  slaughters. 

You  steal  away  to  the  lapping  waters. 

And  look  al  your  ship  in  her  winter  quarters. 

You  forget  our  mirth,  and  talk  at  the  tables, 
The  kine  in  the  shed  and  the  horse  in  the  stables- 
To  pitch  her  sides  and  go  over  her  cables. 

56 


HARP  SONG  OF  THE  DANE  WOMEN 

Then  you  drive  out  where  the  storm-clouds  swallow, 
And  the  sound  of  your  oar-blades,  falling  hollow, 
Is  all  we  have  left  through  the  months  to  follow. 


Ah,  what  is  Woman  that  you  forsake  her, 
And  the  hearth-firc  and  the  home-acre, 
To  go  with  the  old  gray  Widow-maker? 


57 


THE  THOUSANDTH  MAN 

ONE  man  in  a  thousand,  Solomon  says, 
Will  stick  more  close  than  a  brother. 
And  it's  worth  while  seeking  him  half  your  days 
If  you  find  him  before  the  other. 
Nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  depend 

On  what  the  world  sees  in  you. 
But  the  Thousandth  Man  will  stand  your  friend 
With  the  whole  round  world  agin  you. 

'Tis  neither  promise  nor  prayer  nor  show 

Will  settle  the  finding  for  'ee. 
Nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  of  'em  go 

By  your  looks  or  your  acts  or  your  glory. 
But  if  he  finds  you  and  you  find  him, 

The  rest  of  the  world  don't  matter; 
For  the  Thousandth  Man  will  sink  or  swim 

With  you  in  any  water. 

You  can  use  his  purse  with  no  more  talk 

Than  he  uses  yours  for  his  spendings. 
And  laugh  and  meet  in  your  daily  walk 

As  though  there  had  been  no  lendings. 
Nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  of  'em  call 

For  silver  and  gold  in  their  dealings; 
But  the  Thousandth  Man  he's  worth  'em  all, 

Because  you  can  show  him  your  feehngs. 

58 


THE  THOUSANDTH  MAN 

His  wrong's  your  wrong,  and  his  right's  your  right, 

In  season  or  out  of  season. 
Stand  up  and  back  it  in  all  men's  sight — 

With  that  for  your  only  reason! 
Nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  can't  bide 

The  shame  or  mocking  or  laughter, 
But  the  Thousandth  Man  will  stand  by  your  side 

To  the  gallows-foot — and  after! 


59 


THE  WINNERS 

WHAT  is  the  moral?     Who  rides  may  read. 
When  the  nigh  L  is  thick  and  the  tracks  are  bUnd 
A  friend  at  a  pinch  is  a  friend  indeed, 

But  a  fool  to  wait  for  the  laggard  behind. 
Down  to  Gehenna  or  up  to  the  Throne, 
He  travels  the  fastest  who  travels  alone. 

White  hands  cling  to  the  tightened  rein, 

Slipping  the  spur  from  the  booted  heel, 
Tenderest  voices  cry  'Turn  again,' 

Red  Hps  tarnish  the  scabbarded  steel, 
High  hopes  faint  on  a  warm  hearth-stone — 
He  travels  the  fastest  who  travels  alone. 

One  may  fall  but  he  falls  by  himself— 

Falls  by  himself  with  himself  to  blame, 
One  may  attain  and  to  him  is  pelf. 

Loot  of  the  city  in  Gold  or  Fame. 
Plunder  of  earth  shall  be  all  his  own 
Who  travels  the  fastest  and  travels  alone. 

Wherefore  the  more  ye  be  holpen  and  stayed 

Stayed  by  a  friend  in  the  hour  of  toil, 
Sing  the  heretical  song  I  have  made — 

His  be  the  labour  and  yours  be  the  spoil. 
Win  by  his  aid  and  the  aid  disown — 
He  travels  the  fastest  who  travels  alone. 

60 


'BROWN  BESS' 

IN  the  days  of  lace-ruflles,  perukes,  and  brocade, 
Brown  Bess  was  a  partner  whom  none  could  de- 
spise— 
An  outspoken,  flinty-hpped,  brazen-faced  jade, 

With  a  habit  of  looking  men  straight  in  the  eyes. 
At  Blenheim  and  Ramillies  fops  would  confess 
They  were  pierced  to  the  heart  by  the  charms  of  Brown 
Bess. 

Though  her  sight  was  not  long  and  her  weight  was  not 
small, 

Yet  her  actions  were  winning,  her  language  was  clear; 
And  every  one  bowed  as  she  opened  the  ball 

On  the  arm  of  some  high-gaitered,  grim  grenadier. 
Half  Europe  admitted  the  striking  success 
Of  the  dances  and  routs  that  were  given  by  Brown  Bess. 

When  ruffles  were  turned  into  stiff  leather  stocks 
And  people  wore  pigtails  instead  of  perukes. 

Brown  Bess  never  altered  her  iron-gray  locks. 

She  knew  she  was  valued  for  more  than  her  looks. 

'  Oh,  powder  and  patches  was  always  my  dress, 

And  I  think  I  am  killing  enough,'  said  Brown  Bess. 

So  she  followed  her  red-coats,  whatever  they  did, 

From  the  heights  of  Quebec  to  the  plains  of  Assaye, 
From  Gibraltar  to  Acre,  Cape  Town  and  Madrid, 

61 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

And  nothing  about  her  was  changed  on  the  way; 
(But  most  of  the  Empire  which  now  we  possess 
Was  won  through  those  years  by  old-fashioned  Brown 

Bess.) 

In  stub})orn  retreat  or  in  stately  advance, 

From  the  Portugal  coast  to  the  cork-woods  of  Spain, 

She  had  puzzled  some  excellent  Marshals  of  France 
Till  none  of  them  wanted  to  meet  her  again: 

But  later,  near  Brussels,  Napoleon — no  less — 

Arranged  for  a  Waterloo  ball  with  Brown  Bess. 

She  had  danced  till  the  dawn  of  that  terrible  day — 
She  danced  on  till  dusk  of  more  terrible  night. 

And  before  her  linked  squares  his  Ixittalions  gave  way. 
And  her  long  fierce  quadrilles  put  his  lancers  to  flight. 

And  when  his  gilt  carriage  drove  off  in  the  press, 

'  I  have  danced  my  last  dance  for  the  world !'  said  Brown 
Bess. 

If  you  go  to  Museums — there's  one  in  Whitehall — 
Where  old  weapons  are  shown  with  their  names  writ 
beneath. 

You  will  fmd  her,  upstanding,  her  back  to  the  wall, 
As  stiff  as  a  ramrod,  the  flint  in  her  teeth. 

And  if  ever  we  English  have  reason  to  bless 

Any  arm  save  our  mothers',  that  arm  is  Brown  Bess! 


62 


A  ST.  HELENA  LULLABY 

HOW  far  is  St.  Helena  from  a  little  child  at  play?' 
What  makes  you  want  to  wander  there  with 
all  the  world  between? 
Oh,  Mother,  call  your  son  again  or  else  he'll  run  away. 
(No  one  thinks  of  winter  when  the  grass  is  green !) 

'How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  a  fight  in  Paris  street?' 
I  haven't  time  to  answer  now — the  men  are  falling 
fast. 

The  guns  begin  to  thunder,  and  the  drums  begin  to  beat. 
(If  you  take  the  first  step  you  will  take  the  last!) 

'How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  the  field  of  Austerlitz?' 
You  couldn't  hear  me  if  I  told — so  loud  the  cannons 
roar. 
But  not  so  far  for  people  who  are  living  by  their  wits. 
('Gay  go  up'  means  'Gay  go  down'  the  wide  world 
o'er!) 

'How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  an  Emperor  of  France?' 
I  cannot  see — I  cannot  tell — the  crowns  they  dazzle 
so. 
The  Kings  sit  down  to  dinner,  and  the  Queens  stand  up 
to  dance. 
(After  open  weather  you  may  look  for  snow!) 

63 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

*How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  the  Capes  of  Trafalgar?' 
A  longish  way — a  longish  way — with  ten  year  more 
to  run. 

It's  South  across  the  water  underneath  a  setting  star. 
(What  you  cannot  fmish  you  must  leave  undone!) 

*How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  the  Beresina  ice?' 
An  ill  way — a  chill  w^ay — the  ice  begins  to  crack. 

But  not  so  far  for  gentlemen  who  never  took  advice. 
(When  you  can't  go  forward  you  must  e'en  come  back ! ) 

'How  far  is  St.  Helena  from  the  field  of  Waterloo?' 
A  near  way — a  clear  way — the  ship  will  take  you  soon. 

A  pleasant  place  for  gentlemen  with  little  left  to  do. 
(Morning  never  tries  you  till  the  afternoon!) 

'How  far  from  St.  Helena  to  the  Gate  of  Heaven's 
Grace?' 
That  no  one  knows — that  no  one  knows — and  no  one 
ever  will. 
But  fold  your  hands  across  your  heart  and  cover  up 
your  face, 
And  after  all  your  trapesings,  child,  lie  still. 


64 


CHIL'S  SONG 

THESE  were  my  companions  going  forth  by  night — 
(For  Chil!     Look  you,  for  Chil!)"" 
Now  come  I  to  whistle  them  the  ending  of  the 
fight. 

(Chil !  Vanguards  of  Chil !) 
Word  they  gave  me  overhead  of  quarry  newly  slain, 
Word  I  gave  them  underfoot  of  buck  upon  the  plain. 
Here's  an  end  of  every  trail — they  shall  not  speak  again ! 

They  that  called  the  hunting-cry — they  that  followed 
fast — 

(For  Chil!  Look  you,  for  Chil!) 

They  that  bade  the  sambhur  wheel,  or  pinned  him  as  he 
passed — 

(Chil!  Vanguards  of  Chil!) 

They  that  lagged  behind  the  scent — they  that  ran  be- 
fore. 

They  that  shunned  the  level  horn — they  that  overbore. 

Here's  an  end  of  every  trail — they  shall  not  follow  more. 

These  were  my  companions.     Pity  'twas  they  died! 

(For  Chil!  Look  you,  for  Chil!) 
Now  come  I  to  comfort  them  that  knew  them  in  their 
pride. 

(Chil!  Vanguards  of  Chil!) 
65 


CHIL'S  SONG 

Tattered  flank  and  sunken  eye,  open  mouth  and  red, 
Locked  and  lank  and  lone  they  lie,  the  dead  upon  their 

dead. 
Here's  an  end  of  every  trail — and  here  my  hosts  are 

fed! 


66 


THE  CAPTIVE 

NOT  with  an  outcry  to  Allah  nor  any  complain- 
ing 
He  answered  his  name  at  the  muster  and  stood 
to  the  chaining. 
When  the  twin  anklets  were  nipped  on  the  leg-bars  that 

held  them, 
He  brotherly  greeted  the  armourers  stooping  to  weld 

them. 
Ere  the  sad  dust  of  the  marshalled  feet  of  the  chain-gang 

swallowed  him 
Observing  him  nobly  at  ease,  I  alighted  and  followed 

him. 
Thus  we  had  speech  by  the  way,  but  not  touching  his 

sorrow — 
Rather  his  red  Yesterday  and  his  regal  To-morrow, 
Wherein  he  statelily  moved  to  the  click  of  his  chains 

unregarded. 
Nowise  abashed  but  contented  to  drink  of  the  potion 

awarded. 
Saluting  aloofly  his  Fate,  he  made  swift  with  his  story. 
And  the  words  of  his  mouth  were  as  slaves  spreading 

carpets  of  glory 
Embroidered  with  names  of  the  Djinns — a  miraculous 

weaving — 
But  the  cool  and  perspicuous  eye  overbore  unbeliev- 
ing. 

67 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

So  I  submitted  myself  to  the  limits  of  rapture — 
Bound  by  this  man  we  had  bound,  amid  captives  his 

capture — 
Till  he  returned  me  to  earth  and  the  visions  departed. 
But  on  him  be  the  Peace  and  the  Blessing;  for  he  was 

great-hearted ! 


68 


THE  PUZZLER 

THE  Celt  in  all  his  variants  from  Builth  to  Bally- 
hoo, 
His  mental  processes  are  plain — one  knows  what 
he  will  do, 
And  can  logically  predicate  his  finish  by  his  start; 
But  the  English — ah,  the  Enghsh — they  are  quite  a  race 
apart. 

Their  psychology  is  bovine,  their  outlook  crude  and  raw. 

They  abandon  vital  matters  to  be  tickled  with  a  straw, 

But  the  straw  that  they  were  tickled  with — the  chaff 
that  they  were  fed  with — 

They  convert  into  a  weaver's  beam  to  break  their  foe- 
man's  head  with. 

For  undemocratic  reasons  and  for  motives  not  of  State, 
They  arrive  at  their  conclusions — largely  inarticulate. 
Being  void  of  self-expression  they  confide  their  views  to 

none; 
But  sometimes  in   a   smoking-room,   one  learns  why 

things  were  done. 

Yes,  sometimes  in  a  smoking-room,  through  clouds  of 

'Ers'  and  'Ums' 
ObUquely  and  by  inference  illumination  comes, 

69 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

On  some  step  that  they  have  taken,  or  some  action  they 
approve — 

Embelhshed  with  the  argot  of  the  Upper  Fourth  Re- 
move. 

In  telegraphic  sentences,  half  nodded  to  their  friends. 
They  hint  a  matter's  inwardness — and  there  the  matter 

ends. 
And  while  the  Celt  is  talking  from  Valencia  to  Kirkwall, 
The  English — ah,  the  English! — don't  say  anything  at 

all! 


70 


THE  REEDS  OF  RUNNYMEDE 

AT  Runnymede,  at  Runnymede, 
yL4        What  say  the  reeds  at  Runnymede? 
■^     ^  The  hssom  reeds  that  give  and  take, 
That  bend  so  far,  l)ut  never  break, 
They  keep  the  sleepy  Thames  awake 

With  tales  of  John  at  Runnymede. 

At  Runnymede,  at  Runnymede, 
Oh  hear  the  reeds  at  Runnymede! 

'You  mustn't  sell,  delay,  deny, 

A  freeman's  right  or  liberty, 

It  wakes  the  stubborn  Enghshry, 
We  saw  'em  roused  at  Runnymede! 

'  When  through  our  ranks  the  Barons  came, 
With  little  thought  of  praise  or  blame. 
But  resolute  to  play  the  game. 

They  lumbered  up  to  Runnymede; 
And  there  they  launched  in  solid  line. 
The  first  attack  on  Right  Divine — 
The  curt,  uncompromising  "Sign!" 

That  settled  John  at  Runnymede. 

'At  Runnymede,  at  Runnymede, 
Your  rights  were  won  at  Runnymede! 
No  freeman  shall  be  fined  or  bound, 
Or  dispossessed  of  freehold  ground, 
71 


THE  REEDS  OF  RUNNYMEDE 

Except  by  la\\^ul  judgment  found 
And  passed  upon  him  by  his  peers! — 
Forget  not,  after  all  these  years. 
The  charter  signed  at  Runnymede.' 

And  still  when  mob  or  monarch  lays 
Too  rude  a  hand  on  English  ways, 
The  whisper  wakes,  the  shudder  plays, 

Across  the  reeds  at  Runnymede. 
And  Thames,  that  knows  the  moods  of  kings, 
And  crowds  and  priests  and  suchlike  things, 
Rolls  deep  and  dreadful  as  he  brings 

Their  warning  down  from  Runnymede! 


72 


HADRAMAUTI 

WHO  knows  the  heart  of  the  Christian?    How 
does  he  reason? 
What  are  his  measures  and  balances?    Which 
is  his  season 
For  laughter,  forbearance  or  bloodshed,  and  what  devils 

move  him 
When  he  arises  to  smite  us?     I  do  not  love  him. 

He  invites  the  derision  of  strangers — he  enters  all  places. 

Booted,  bareheaded  he  enters.  With  shouts  and  em- 
braces 

He  asks  of  us  news  of  the  household  whom  we  reckon 
nameless. 

Certainly  Allah  created  him  forty-fold  shameless. 

So  it  is  not  in  the  Desert.  One  came  to  me  weeping — 
The  Avenger  of  Blood  on  his  track — I  took  him  in  keeping, 
Demanding  not  whom  he  had  slain,  I  refreshed  him,  I 

fed  him 
As  he  were  even  a  brother.     But  Eblis  had  bred  him. 

He  was  the  son  of  an  ape,  ill  at  ease  in  his  clothing, 
He  talked  with  his  head,  hands  and  feet.     I  endured  him 

with  loathing. 
Whatever  his  spirit  conceived  his  countenance  showed  it 
As  a  frog  shows  in  a  mud-puddle.     Yet  I  abode  it ! 

73 


HADRAMAUTI 

I  fingered  my  beard  and  was  dumb,  in  silence  confront- 
ing him. 

His  soul  was  too  shallow  for  silence,  e'en  with  Death 
hunting  him. 

I  said:  ' 'Tis  his  weariness  speaks,'  but,  when  he  had 
rested, 

He  chirped  in  my  face  like  some  sparrow,  and,  presently, 
jested! 

Wherefore  slew  I  that  stranger?  He  brought  me  dis- 
honour. 

I  saddled  my  mare,  Bijli,  I  set  him  upon  her. 

I  gave  him  rice  and  goat's  flesh.  He  bared  me  to 
laughter. 

When  he  was  gone  from  my  tent,  swift  I  followed  after. 

Taking  my  sword  in  my  hand.  The  hot  wine  had  filled 
him. 

Under  the  stars  he  mocked  me — therefore  I  killed  him ! 


74 


GALLIC 'S  SONG 

(And  Gallio  cared  for  none  of  these  things. 
Acts  xviii.  17) 

A  LL  day  long  to  the  judgment-seat 
ZA         The  crazed  Provincials  drew — 
J^     ^   All  day  long  at  their  ruler's  feet 

Howled  for  the  blood  of  the  Jew. 
Insurrection  with  one  accord 

Banded  itself  and  woke, 
And  Paul  was  about  to  open  his  mouth 
When  Achaia's  Deputy  spoke — 

'Whether  the  God  descend  from  above 

Or  the  Man  ascend  upon  high, 
Whether  this  maker  of  tents  be  Jove 

Or  a  younger  deity — 
I  will  be  no  judge  between  your  gods 

And  your  godless  bickerings. 
Lictor,  drive  them  hence  with  rods. 

I  care  for  none  of  these  things! 

*  Were  it  a  question  of  lawful  due 

Or  Caesar's  rule  denied, 
Reason  would  I  should  bear  with  you 

And  order  it  well  to  be  tried ; 

75 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

But  this  is  a  question  of  words  and  names. 

I  know  the  strife  it  brings. 
I  will  not  pass  upon  any  your  claims. 

I  care  for  none  of  these  things. 


'One  thing  only  I  see  most  clear, 

As  I  pray  you  also  see. 
Claudius  Csesar  hath  set  me  here 

Rome's  Deputy  to  be. 
It  is  Her  peace  that  ye  go  to  break — 

Not  mine,  nor  any  king's, 
But,  touching  your  clamour  of  "Conscience  sake, 

I  care  for  none  of  these  things. 

'  Whether  ye  rise  for  the  sake  of  a  creed, 

Or  riot  in  hope  of  spoil. 
Equally  will  I  punish  the  deed. 

Equally  check  the  broil; 
Nowise  permitting  injustice  at  all 

From  whatever  doctrine  it  springs — 
But — whether  ye  follow  Priapus  or  Paul, 

I  care  for  none  of  these  things.' 


76 


THE  BEES  AND  THE  FLIES 

A  FARMER  of  the  Augustan  Age 
Perused  in  Virgil's  golden  page, 
The  story  of  the  secret  won 
From  Proteus  by  Gyrene's  son — 
How  the  dank  sea-god  showed  the  swain 
Means  to  restore  his  hives  again. 
More  briefly,  how  a  slaughtered  bull 
Breeds  honey  by  the  bellyful. 

The  egregious  rustic  put  to  death 

A  bull  by  stopping  of  its  breath. 

Disposed  the  carcass  in  a  shed 

With  fragrant  herbs  and  branches  spread. 

And,  having  thus  performed  the  charm, 

Sat  down  to  wait  the  promised  swarm. 

Nor  waited  long.     The  God  of  Day 
Impartial,  quickening  with  his  ray 
Evil  and  good  alike,  beheld 
The  carcass — and  the  carcass  swelled. 
Big  with  new  birth  the  belly  heaves 
Beneath  its  screen  of  scented  leaves, 
Past  any  doubt,  the  bull  conceives! 

The  farmer  bids  men  bring  more  hives 
To  house  the  profit  that  arrives; 

77 


THE  BEES  AND  THE  FLIES 

Prepares  on  pan,  and  key  and  kettle, 
Sweet  music  that  shall  make  'em  settle; 
But  when  to  crown  the  work  he  goes, 
Gods!  What  a  slink  salutes  his  nose! 
Where  are  the  honest  toilers?     Where 
The  gravid  mistress  of  their  care? 
A  busy  scene,  indeed,  he  sees, 
But  not  a  sign  or  sound  of  bees. 
Worms  of  the  riper  grave  unhid 
By  any  kindly  coffin  Ud, 
Obscene  and  shameless  to  the  light 
Seethe  in  insatiate  appetite. 
Through  putrid  offal,  while  above 
The  hissing  blow-fly  seeks  his  love. 
Whose  offspring,  supping  where  they  supt, 
Consume  corruption  twice  corrupt. 


78 


ROAD-SONG  OF  THE  BANDAR-LOG 

HERE  we  go  in  a  flung  festoon, 
Half-way  up  to  the  jealous  moon! 
Don't  you  envy  our  pranceful  bands? 
Don't  you  wish  you  had  extra  hands? 
Wouldn't  you  like  if  your  tails  were — so — 
Curved  in  the  shape  of  a  Cupid's  bow  ? 
Now  you're  angry,  but — never  mind, 
Brother,  thy  tail  hangs  down  behind ! 


Here  we  sit  in  a  branchy  row. 
Thinking  of  beautiful  things  we  know; 
Dreaming  of  deeds  that  we  mean  to  do. 
All  complete,  in  a  minute  or  two — 
Something  noble  and  grand  and  good. 
Won  by  merely  wishing  we  could. 

Now  we're  going  to — never  mind. 
Brother,  thy  tail  hangs  down  behind! 


All  the  talk  we  ever  have  heard 
Uttered  by  bat  or  beast  or  bird — 
Hide  or  fm  or  scale  or  feather — 
Jabber  it  quickly  and  all  together! 
Excellent!  Wonderful!  Once  again! 
Now  we  are  talking  just  like  men. 

79 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Let's  pretend  we  are     .     .     .     never  mind, 
Brother,  thy  tail  hangs  down  behind! 
This  is  the  way  of  the  Monkey-kind! 


Then  join  our  leaping  lines  that  scumfish  through  the 

pines, 
That  rocket  by  wlicre,  light  and  high,  the  wild-grape 

swings. 
By  the  rubbish  in  our  wake,  and  the  noble  noise  we 

make. 
Be  sure,  be  sure,  we're  going  to  do  some  splendid  things! 


80 


T 


'OUR  FATHERS  ALSO' 

HRONES,  Powers,  Dominions,  Peoples,  Kings, 
Are  changing  'neath  our  hand; 
Our  fathers  also  see  these  things. 
But  they  do  not  understand. 


By — they  are  by  with  mirth  and  tears, 

Wit  or  the  works  of  Desire — 
Cushioned  about  on  the  kindly  years 

Between  the  wall  and  the  fire. 

The  grapes  are  pressed,  the  corn  is  shocked — 

Standeth  no  more  to  glean; 
For  the  Gates  of  Love  and  Learning  locked 

When  they  went  out  between. 

All  lore  our  Lady  Venus  bares, 

Signalled  it  was  or  told 
By  the  dear  lips  long  given  to  theirs 

And  longer  to  the  mould. 

All  Profit,  all  Device,  all  Truth 

Written  it  was  or  said 
By  the  mighty  men  of  their  mighty  youth, 

Which  is  mighty  being  dead. 

81 


'OUR  FATHERS  ALSO' 

The  film  that  floats  before  their  eyes 
The  Temple's  Veil  they  call; 

And  the  dust  that  on  the  Shewbread  lies 
Is  holy  over  all. 

Warn  them  of  seas  that  slip  our  yoke 

Of  slow-conspiring  stars — 
The  ancient  Front  of  Things  unbroke 

But  heavy  with  new  wars? 

By — they  are  by  with  mirth  and  tears, 
Wit  or  the  waste  of  Desire — 

Cushioned  about  on  the  kindly  years 
Between  the  wall  and  the  fire. 


82 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 
The  Naulahka 

WE  meet  in  an  evil  land 
That  is  near  to  the  gates  of  hell. 
I  wait  for  thy  command 
To  serve,  to  speed  or  withstand. 
And  thou  sayest,  I  do  not  well? 


Oh  Love,  the  flowers  so  red 

Are  only  tongues  of  flame, 
The  earth  is  full  of  the  dead. 
The  new-killed,  restless  dead. 
There  is  danger  beneath  and  o'erhead; 

And  I  guard  thy  gates  in  fear 
Of  peril  and  jeopardy, 

Of  words  thou  canst  not  hear, 
Of  signs  thou  canst  not  see — 

And  thou  sayest  'tis  ill  that  I  come? 


This  I  saw  when  the  rites  were  done, 
And  the  lamps  were  dead  and  the  Gods  alone. 
And  the  gray  snake  coiled  on  the  altar  stone. 
Ere  I  fled  from  a  Fear  that  I  could  not  see, 
And  the  Gods  of  the  East  made  mouths  at  me. 

83 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Now,  it  is  not  good  for  the  Christian's  health  to  hustle 

the  Aryan  brown, 
For  the  Christian  riles,  and  the  Aryan  smiles,  and  he 

weareth  the  Christian  down; 
And  the  end  of  the  fight  is  a  tombstone  white,  with  the 

name  of  the  late  deceased, 
And  the  epitaph  drear:  'A  fool  Ues  here  who  tried  to 

hustle  the  East.' 


Beat  off  in  our  last  fight  were  we? 
The  greater  need  to  seek  the  sea. 
For  Fortune  changeth  as  the  moon 
To  caravel  and  picaroon. 
Then  Eastward  Ho!  Or  Westward  Ho! 
Whichever  wind  may  meetest  blow. 
Our  quarry  sails  on  either  sea, 
Fat  prey  for  such  bold  lads  as  we. 
And  every  sun-dried  buccaneer 
Must  hand  and  reef  and  watch  and  steer, 
And  bear  great  wrath  of  sea  and  sky 
Before  the  plate-ships  wallow  by. 
Now  as  our  tall  bows  take  the  foam, 
Let  no  man  turn  his  heart  to  home, 
Save  to  desire  treasure  more 
And  larger  warehouse  for  his  store, 
When  treasure  trove  from  Santos  Bay 
Shall  make  our  sea-washed  village  gay. 

Because  I  sought  it  far  from  men 

In  deserts  and  alone; 
I  found  it  burning  overhead, 

The  jewel  of  a  Throne. 
84 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

Because  I  sought — I  sought  it  so 
And  spent  my  days  to  find — 

It  blazed  one  moment  ere  it  left 
The  blacker  night  behind! 


When  a  lover  hies  abroad 

Looking  for  his  love, 
Azrael  smiling  sheathes  his  sword. 

Heaven  smiles  above. 
Earth  and  sea 
His  servants  be 
And  to  lesser  compass  round 
That  his  love  be  sooner  found. 


There  was  a  strife  'twixt  man  and  maid — 

Oh  that  was  at  the  birth  of  time! 
But  what  befell  'twixt  man  and  maid. 

Oh  that's  beyond  the  grip  of  rhyme. 
'Twas,  'Sweet,  I  must  not  bide  with  you,' 

And,  'Love,  I  cannot  bide  alone'; 
For  both  were  young  and  both  were  true, 

And  both  were  hard  as  the  nether  stone. 


There  is  pleasure  in  the  wet  wet  clay, 

When  the  artist's  hand  is  potting  it; 
There  is  pleasure  in  the  wet  wet  lay, 

When  the  poet's  pad  is  blotting  it; 
There  is  pleasure  in  the  shine  of  your  picture  on  the 
line 
At  the  Royal  Acade-my; 

85 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Bui  the  pleasure  felt  in  these  is  as  chalk  to  Cheddar 
cheese, 
When  it  comes  to  a  well-made  Lie. 
To  a  quite  unwreckable  Lie, 
To  a  most  impeccable  Lie! 
To  a  water-tight,  fireproof,  angle-iron,  sunk-hinge,  time- 
lock,  steel-faced  Lie! 

Not  a  private  hansom  Lie, 
But  a  pair-and-brougham  Lie, 
Not  a  little-place-at-Tooting,  but  a  country-house-with- 
shooting 

And  a  ring-fence-deer-park  Lie. 


We  be  the  Gods  of  the  East — 

Older  than  all — 
Masters  of  Mourning  and  Feast, 

How  shall  we  fall? 


Will  they  gape  for  the  husks  that  ye  proffer. 

Or  yearn  to  your  song? 
And  we — have  we  nothing  to  offer 
Who  ruled  them  so  long — 
In  the  fume  of  the  incense,  the  clash  of  the  cymbal,  the 
blare  of  the  conch  and  the  gong? 

Over  the  strife  of  the  schools 

Low  the  day  burns — 
Back  with  the  kine  from  the  pools 
Each  one  returns 
To  the  life  that  he  knows  where  the  altar-flame  glows 
and  the  tulsi  is  trimmed  in  the  urns. 
86 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 
The  Light  that  Failed 

So  we  settled  it  all  when  the  storm  was  done 

As  comfy  as  comfy  could  be; 
And  I  was  to  wait  in  the  barn,  my  dears, 

Because  I  was  only  three. 
And  Teddy  would  run  to  the  rainbow's  foot 

Because  he  was  five  and  a  man; 
And  that's  how  it  all  began,  my  dears. 

And  that's  how  it  all  began. 

'  If  I  have  taken  the  common  clay 

And  wrought  it  cunningly 
In  the  shape  of  a  God  that  was  digged  a  clod, 

The  greater  honour  to  me.' 
'  If  thou  hast  taken  the  common  clay. 

And  thy  hands  be  not  free 
From  the  taint  of  the  soil,  thou  hast  made  thy  spoil 

The  greater  shame  to  thee.' 

The  wolf-cub  at  even  lay  hid  in  the  corn, 
Where  the  smoke  of  the  cooking  hung  gray : 

He  knew  where  the  doe  made  a  couch  for  her  fawn, 
And  he  looked  to  his  strength  for  his  prey. 
But  the  moon  swept  the  smoke-wreaths  away, 

And  he  turned  from  his  meal  in  the  villagers  close. 

And  he  bayed  to  the  moon  as  she  rose. 

The  lark  will  make  her  hymn  to  God, 

The  partridge  call  her  brood. 
While  I  forget  the  heath  I  trod. 

The  fields  wherein  I  stood. 
87 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

'Tis  dule  to  know  not  night  from  morn, 

But  greater  dule  to  know 
I  can  but  hear  the  hunter's  horn 

That  once  I  used  to  blow. 

There  were  three  friends  that  buried  the  fourth, 
The  mould  in  his  mouth  and  the  dust  in  his  eyes, 

And  they  went  south  and  east  and  north — 
The  strong  man  fights  but  the  sick  man  dies. 

There  w^ere  three  friends  that  spoke  of  the  dead — 
The  strong  man  fights  but  the  sick  man  dies — 

'And  would  he  were  here  with  us  now,'  they  said, 
'  The  sun  in  our  face  and  the  wind  in  our  eyes.' 

Yet  at  the  last,  ere  our  spearmen  had  found  him. 
Yet  at  the  last,  ere  a  sword-thrust  could  save, 

Yet  at  the  last,  with  his  masters  around  him, 
He  spoke  of  the  Faith  as  a  master  to  slave. 

Yet  at  the  last,  though  the  Kafirs  had  maimed  him, 
Broken  by  bondage  and  wrecked  by  the  reiver, 

Yet  at  the  last,  tho'  the  darkness  had  claimed  him, 
He  called  upon  Allah,  and  died  a  Believer! 


88 


A  BRITISH-ROMAN  SONG 

(A.  D.  406) 


M 


Y  father's  father  saw  it  not, 

And  I,  behke,  shall  never  come 
To  look  on  that  so-holy  spot — 
The  very  Rome — 


Crowned  by  all  Time,  all  Art,  all  Might, 

The  equal  work  of  Gods  and  Man, 
City  beneath  whose  oldest  height — 
The  Race  began! 

Soon  to  send  forth  again  a  brood, 

Unshakeable,  we  pray,  that  clings, 
To  Rome's  thrice-hammered  hardihood — 
In  arduous  things. 

Strong  heart  with  triple  armour  bound. 
Beat  strongly,  for  thy  life-blood  runs. 
Age  after  Age,  the  Empire  round — 
In  us  thy  Sons, 

Who,  distant  from  the  Seven  Hills, 

Loving  and  serving  much,  require 
Thee — thee  to  guard  'gainst  home-born  ills, 
The  Imperial  Fire! 
89 


A  PICT  SONG 

ROME  never  looks  where  she  treads. 
Always  her  heavy  hooves  fall, 
On  our  stomachs,  our  hearts  or  our  heads; 
And  Rome  never  heeds  when  we  bawl. 
Her  sentries  pass  on — that  is  all, 

And  we  gather  behind  them  in  hordes, 
And  plot  to  reconquer  the  Wall, 

With  only  our  tongues  for  our  swords. 

We  are  the  Little  Folk — we! 

Too  little  to  love  or  to  hate. 
Leave  us  alone  and  you'll  see 

How  we  can  drag  down  the  State! 
We  are  the  worm  in  the  wood ! 

We  are  the  rot  at  the  root! 
We  are  the  germ  in  the  blood! 

We  are  the  thorn  in  the  foot ! 

Mistletoe  killing  an  oak — 

Rats  gnawing  cables  in  two — 
Moths  making  holes  in  a  cloak — 

How  they  must  love  what  they  do ! 
Yes — and  we  Little  Folk  too, 

We  are  busy  as  they — 
Working  our  works  out  of  view — 

Watch,  and  you'll  see  it  some  day ! 

90 


A  PICT  SONG 

No  indeed!     We  arc  nol  strong, 

But  we  know  Peoples  that  are. 
Yes,  and  we'll  guide  them  along, 

To  smash  and  destroy  you  in  War! 
We  shall  be  slaves  just  the  same? 

Yes,  we  have  always  been  slaves. 
But  you — you  will  die  of  the  shame. 

And  then  we  shall  dance  on  your  graves! 

We  are  the  Little  Folk — we,  etc. 


91 


w 


THE  PICTS'  WORK 

HEN  Rome  was  rotten-ripe  to  her  fall, 
And  the  sceptre  passed  from  her  hand, 

The  pestilent  Picts  leaped  over  the  wall 
To  harry  the  British  land. 


The  little  dark  men  of  the  mountain  and  waste, 

So  quick  to  laughter  and  tears, 
They  came  panting  with  hate  and  haste 

For  the  loot  of  five  hundred  years. 

They  killed  the  trader,  they  sacked  the  shops. 

They  ruined  temple  and  town — 
They  swept  like  wolves  through  the  standing  crops 

Crying  that  Rome  was  down. 

They  wiped  out  all  that  they  could  find 

Of  beauty  and  strength  and  worth. 
But  they  could  not  wipe  out  the  Viking's  Wind, 

That  brings  the  ships  from  the  North. 

They  could  not  wipe  out  the  North-East  gales, 

Nor  what  those  gales  set  free — 
The  pirate  ships  with  their  close-reefed  sails, 

Leaping  from  sea  to  sea. 

92 


THE  PICTS'  WORK 

They  had  forgotten  the  shield-hung  hull 

Seen  nearer  and  more  plain, 
Dipping  into  the  troughs  like  a  gull, 

And  gull-like  rising  again. 

The  painted  eyes  that  glare  and  frown, 

In  the  high  snake-headed  stem, 
Searching  the  beach  while  her  sail  comes  down, 

They  had  forgotten  them! 

There  was  no  Count  of  the  Saxon  Shore 

To  meet  her  hand  to  hand. 
When  she  took  the  beach  with  a  lunge  and  a  roar, 

And  the  pirates  rushed  inland! 


93 


I 


DANE-GELD 

T  is  always  a  temptation  to  an  armed  and  agile  nation, 
•      To  call  upon  a  neighbour  and  to  say : — 

'  We  invaded  you  last  night — we  are  quite  prepared 
to  fight, 

Unless  you  pay  us  cash  to  go  away.' 


(Waltz-time) 

And  that  is  called  asking  for  Dane-geld, 

And  the  people  who  ask  it  explain 
That  you've  only  to  pay  'em  the  Dane-geld 

And  then  you'll  get  rid  of  the  Dane! 

II  is  always  a  temptation  to  a  rich  and  lazy  nation, 
To  puff  and  look  important  and  to  say: — 

'Though  we  know  we  should  defeat  you,  we  have  not  the 
time  to  meet  you, 
We  will  therefore  pay  you  cash  to  go  away.' 

And  that  is  called  paying  the  Dane-geld; 

But  we've  proved  it  again  and  again, 
That,  once  you  have  paid  him  the  Dane-geld, 

You  never  get  rid  of  the  Dane. 

II  is  wrong  to  put  temptation  in  the  path  of  any  nation, 
Eor  fear  they  should  succumb  and  go  astray, 

So  when  you  are  requested  to  pay  up  or  be  molested, 
Y()\i  will  fmd  it  better  policy  to  say: — 

94 


DANE-GELD 

'We  never  pay  any  one  Dane-geld, 

No  matter  how  trifling  the  cost, 
For  the  end  of  that  game  is  oppression  and  shame, 

And  the  nation  that  plays  it  is  lost!' 


95 


THE  STRANGER 

THE  Stranger  within  my  gate, 
He  may  be  true  or  kind, 
But  he  does  not  talk  my  talk — 
I  cannot  feel  his  mind. 
I  see  the  face  and  the  eyes  and  the  mouth, 
But  not  the  soul  behind. 

The  men  of  my  own  stock 

They  may  do  ill  or  well, 
But  they  tell  the  lies  I  am  wonted  to. 

They  are  used  to  the  lies  I  tell. 
We  do  not  need  interpreters 

When  we  go  to  buy  and  sell. 

The  Stranger  within  my  gates, 

He  may  be  evil  or  good, 
But  I  cannot  tell  what  powers  control — 

What  reasons  sway  his  mood; 
Nor  when  the  Gods  of  his  far-off  land 

May  repossess  his  blood. 

The  men  of  my  own  stock, 

Bitter  bad  they  may  be, 
But,  at  least,  they  hear  the  things  I  hear, 

And  see  the  things  I  see; 
And  whatever  I  think  of  them  and  their  likes 

They  think  of  the  likes  of  me. 
96 


THE  STRANGER 

This  was  my  father's  behef 

And  this  is  also  mine: 
Let  the  corn  be  all  one  sheaf — 

And  the  grapes  be  all  one  vine, 
Ere  our  children's  teeth  are  set  on  edge 

By  bitter  bread  and  wine. 


97 


'RIMINI' 

(Marching  Song  of  a  Roman  Legion  of  the  Later  Em- 
pire) 

WHEN  I  left  Rome  for  Lalage's  sake 
By  the  Legions'  road  to  Rimini, 
She  vowed  her  heart  was  mine  to  take 
With  me  and  my  shield  to  Rimini 
(Till  the  Eagles  flew  from  Rimini.) 
And  I've  tramped  Britain,  and  I've  tramped  Gaul, 
And  the  Pontic  shore  where  the  snow-flakes  fall 
As  white  as  the  neck  of  Lalage — 
(As  cold  as  the  heart  of  Lalage!) 
And  I've  lost  Britain,  and  I've  lost  Gaul, 
And  I've  lost  Rome,  and  worst  of  all, 
I've  lost  Lalage! 

When  you  go  by  the  Via  Aurelia, 

As  thousands  have  travelled  before. 
Remember  the  Luck  of  the  Soldier 

Who  never  saw  Rome  any  more! 
Oh  dear  was  the  sweetheart  that  kissed  him. 

And  dear  was  the  mother  that  bore, 
But  his  shield  was  picked  up  in  the  heather, 

And  he  never  saw  Rome  any  more! 

And  he  left  Rome,  etc. 
98 


'RIMINr 

When  you  go  by  the  Via  Aurelia 

That  runs  from  the  City  to  Gaul, 
Remember  the  Luck  of  the  Soldier 

Who  rose  to  be  master  of  all ! 
1  le  carried  the  sword  and  the  buckler, 

He  mounted  his  guard  on  the  Wall, 
Till  the  Legions  elected  him  Caesar, 

And  he  rose  to  be  master  of  all! 

And  he  left  Rome,  etc. 

It's  twenty-five  marches  to  Narbo, 

It's  forty-five  more  up  the  Rhone, 
And  the  end  may  be  death  in  the  heather 

Or  life  on  an  Emperor's  throne. 
But  whether  the  Eagles  obey  us, 

Or  we  go  to  the  Ravens — alone, 
I'd  sooner  be  Lalage's  lover 

Than  sit  on  an  Emperor's  throne ! 

We've  all  left  Rome  for  Lalage's  sake,  etc. 


99 


*POOR  HONEST  MEN' 
(A.  D.  1800) 

YOUR  jar  of  Virginny 
Will  cost  you  a  guinea, 
Which  you  reckon  too  much  by  five  shillings  or 
ten; 
But  light  your  churchwarden 
And  judge  it  according, 
When  I've  told  you  the  troubles  of  poor  honest  men. 

From  the  Capes  of  the  Delaware, 

As  you  are  well  aware, 

We  sail  with  tobacco  for  England — but  then, 

Our  own  British  cruisers, 

They  watch  us  come  through,  sirs, 

And  they  press  half  a  score  of  us  poor  honest  men ! 

Or  if  by  quick  sailing 

(Thick  weather  prevailing) 

We  leave  them  behind  (as  we  do  now  and  then) 

We  are  sure  of  a  gun  from 

Each  frigate  we  run  from, 

Which  is  often  destruction  to  poor  honest  men! 

Broadsides  the  Atlantic 
We  tumble  short-handed. 

With  shot-holes  to  plug  and  new  canvas  to  bend, 

100 


'POOR  HONEST  MEN' 

And  ofT  the  Azores, 

Dutch,  Dons  and  Monsieurs 

Are  waiting  to  terrify  poor  honest  men. 


Napoleon's  embargo 

Is  laid  on  all  cargo 

Which  comfort  or  aid  to  King  George  may  intend; 

And  since  roll,  twist  and  leaf, 

Of  all  comforts  is  chief. 

They  try  for  to  steal  it  from  poor  honest  men ! 

With  no  heart  for  fight. 

We  take  refuge  in  flight. 

But  fire  as  we  run,  our  retreat  to  defend. 

Until  our  stern-chasers 

Cut  up  her  fore-braces. 

And  she  flies  up  the  wind  from  us  poor  honest  men! 

Twix'  the  Forties  and  Fifties 

South-eastward  the  drift  is, 

And  so,  when  we  think  we  are  making  Land's  End, 

Alas,  it  is  Ushant 

With  half  the  King's  Navy, 

Blockading  French  ports  against  poor  honest  men! 

But  they  may  not  quit  station 
(Which  is  our  salvation) 
So  swiftly  we  stand  to  the  Nor'ard  again; 
And  finding  the  tail  of 
A  homeward-bound  convoy. 
We  slip  past  the  SciUies  like  poor  honest  men. 

101 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Twix'  the  Lizard  and  Dover 

We  hand  our  stulT  over, 

Though  I  may  not  inform  how  we  do  it,  nor  when; 

But  a  hght  on  each  quarter 

Low  down  on  the  water 

Is  well  understanded  by  poor  honest  men! 

Even  then  we  have  dangers 

From  meddlesome  strangers 

Who  spy  on  our  business  and  are  not  content 

To  take  a  smooth  answer, 

Except  with  a  handspike     .     .     . 

And  they  say  they  are  murdered  by  poor  honest  men  1 

To  be  drowned  or  be  shot 

Is  our  natural  lot, 

Why  should  we,  moreover,  be  hanged  in  the  end — 

After  all  our  great  pains 

For  to  dangle  in  chains 

As  though  we  were  smugglers,  not  poor  honest  men? 


102 


THE  BOATS  OF  NEWHAVEN 

THE  boats  of  Newhaven  and  Folkestone  and  Dover 
To  Dieppe  and  Boulogne  and  to  Calais  cross  over; 
And  in  each  of  those  runs  there  is  not  a  square  yard 
Where  theEnghsh  and  French  haven't  fought  and  fought 
hard ! 

If  the  ships  that  were  sunk  could  be  floated  once  more, 
They'd  stretch  like  a  raft  from  the  shore  to  the  shore, 
And  we'd  see,  as  we  crossed,  every  pattern  and  plan 
Of  ship  that  was  built  since  sea-fighting  began. 

Thcre'd  be  biremes  and  brigantines,  cutters  and  sloops. 
Cogs,  carracks  and  galleons  with  gay  gilded  poops — 
Hoys,  caravels,  ketches,  corvettes  and  the  rest, 
As  thick  as  regattas,  from  Ramsgate  to  Brest. 

But  the  galleys  of  Csesar,  the  squadrons  of  Sluys, 
And  Nelson's  crack  frigates  are  hid  from  our  eyes, 
\\'hcre  the  high  Seventy-fours  of  Napoleon's  days 
Lie  down  with  Deal  luggers  and  French  chasse-marees. 

They'll  answer  no  signal — they  rest  on  the  ooze 
With  their  honeycombed  guns  and  their  skeleton  crews — 
And  racing  above  them,  through  sunshine  or  gale. 
The  Cross-Channel  packets  come  in  with  the  Mail. 

103 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Then  the  poor  sea-sick  passengers,  EngHsh  and  French, 
Must  open  their  trunks  on  the  Custom-house  bench, 
While  the  officers  rummage  for  smuggled  cigars 
And  nobody  thinks  of  our  bloodthirsty  wars! 


104 


*WHEN  THE  GREAT  ARK' 

WHEN  the  Great  Ark,  in  Vigo  Bay, 
Rode  stately  through  the  half-manned  fleet. 
From  every  ship  about  her  way 
She  heard  the  mariners  entreat — 
'Before  we  take  the  seas  again 
Let  dow^n  your  boats  and  send  us  men! 

'  We  have  no  lack  of  victual  here 

With  work — God  knows! — enough  for  all. 

To  hand  and  reef  and  watch  and  steer, 
Because  our  present  strength  is  small. 

While  your  three  decks  are  crowded  so 

Your  crews  can  scarcely  stand  or  go. 

*  In  war,  your  numbers  do  but  raise 

Confusion  and  divided  will; 
In  storm,  the  mindless  deep  obeys 

Not  multitudes  but  single  skill; 
In  calm,  your  numbers,  closely  pressed. 
Do  breed  a  mutiny  or  pest. 

'We,  even  on  unchallenged  seas, 

Dare  not  adventure  where  we  would. 
But  forfeit  brave  advantages 

For  lack  of  men  to  make  'em  good; 
Whereby,  to  England's  double  cost, 
Honour  and  profit  both  are  lost!' 

105 


THE  SONG   OF  VALLEY   FORGE 

'/  I  "^WAS  not  while  England's  sword  unsheathed 
I  Put  half  a  world  to  flight, 

1      Nor  while  their  new-built  cities  breathed 
Secure  behind  her  might; 
Not  while  she  poured  from  Pole  to  Line 

Treasure  and  ships  and  men — 
These  worshippers  at  Freedom's  shrine 
They  did  not  quit  her  then! 

Not  till  their  foes  were  driven  forth 

By  England  o'er  the  main — 
Not  till  the  Frenchman  from  the  North 

Had  gone,  with  shattered  Spain; 
Not  till  the  clean-swept  ocean  showed 

No  hostile  flag  unrolled. 
Did  they  remember  what  they  owed 

To  Freedom — and  were  bold! 

The  snow  lies  thick  on  Valley  Forge, 

The  ice  on  the  Delaware, 
But  the  poor  dead  soldiers  of  King  George 

They  neither  know  nor  care — 

Not  though  the  earliest  primrose  break 

On  the  sunny  side  of  the  lane. 
And  scuffling  rookeries  awake 

Their  England's  spring  again. 

lOG 


THE  SONG  OF  VALLEY  FORGE 

They  will  not  stir  when  the  drifts  are  gone 

Or  the  ice  melts  out  of  the  bay, 
And  the  men  that  served  with  Washington 

Lie  all  as  still  as  they. 

They  will  not  stir  though  the  mayflower  blows 

In  the  moist  dark  woods  of  pine, 
And  every  rock-strewn  pasture  shows 

Mullein  and  columbine. 

Each  for  his  land,  in  a  fair  fight, 

Encountered,  strove,  and  died, 
And  the  kindly  earth  that  knows  no  spite 

Covers  them  side  by  side. 

She  is  too  busy  to  think  of  war; 

She  has  all  the  world  to  make  gay, 
And,  behold,  the  yearly  flowers  are 

Where  they  were  in  our  fathers'  day ! 

Golden-rod  by  the  pasture  wall 

When  the  columbine  is  dead. 
And  sumach  leaves  that  turn,  in  fall, 

Bright  as  the  blood  they  shed. 


107 


p 


PROPHETS  AT  HOME 

ROPHETS  have  honour  all  over  the  Earth, 
Except  in  the  village  where  they  were  born; 
\\'here  such  as  knew  them  boys  from  birth, 
Nature-ally  hold  'em  in  scorn. 


A\'hen  Prophets  arc  naughty  and  young  and  vain. 
They  make  a  won' erf ul  grievance  of  it. 

(You  can  see  by  their  writings  how  they  complain), 
Rut  0,  'tis  won'erful  good  for  the  Prophet! 

There's  nothing  Nineveh  Town  can  give 
(Nor  being  swallowed  by  whales  between), 

Makes  up  for  the  place  where  a  man's  folk  live, 
Which  don't  care  nothing  what  he  has  been. 

He  might  ha'  been  that,  or  he  might  ha'  been  this. 

But  they  love  and  they  hate  him  for  what  he  is. 


108 


THE  DUTCH  IN  THE  MEDWAY 

IF  war  were  won  by  feasting, 
Or  victory  by  song, 
Or  safety  found  in  sleeping  sound. 
How  England  would  be  strong! 
But  honour  and  dominion 

Are  not  maintained  so. 
They're  only  got  by  sword  and  shot, 
And  this  the  Dutchmen  know! 

The  moneys  that  should  feed  us. 

You  spend  on  your  delight, 
How  can  you  then  have  sailor-men 

To  aid  you  in  your  fight? 
Our  fish  and  cheese  are  rotten, 

Which  makes  the  scurvy  grow — 
We  cannot  serve  you  if  we  starve. 

And  this  the  Dutchmen  know! 

Our  ships  in  every  harbour 

Be  neither  whole  nor  sound, 
And,  when  we  seek  to  mend  a  leak. 

No  oakum  can  be  found. 
Or,  if  it  is,  the  caulkers. 

And  carpenters  also. 
For  lack  of  pay  have  run  away, 

And  this  the  Dutchmen  know! 
109 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Mere  powder,  guns,  and  bullets, 

We  scarce  can  get  at  all. 
Their  price  was  spent  in  merriment 

And  revel  at  Whitehall, 
While  we  in  tattered  doublets 

From  ship  to  ship  must  row, 
Beseeching  friends  for  odds  and  ends- 

And  this  the  Dutchmen  know! 

No  King  will  heed  our  warnings, 

No  Court  will  pay  our  claims — 
Our  King  and  Court  for  their  disport 

Do  sell  the  very  Thames! 
For,  now  De  Ruyter's  topsails. 

Off  naked  Chatham  show, 
We  dare  not  meet  him  with  our  fleet- 

And  this  the  Dutchmen  know! 


110 


J 


JURAL  AND  TUBAL  CAIN 

UBAL  sang  of  the  Wrath  of  God 

And  the  curse  of  thistle  and  thorn — 
But  Tubal  got  him  a  pointed  rod, 
And  scrabbled  the  earth  for  corn. 
Old — old  as  that  early  mould, 

Young  as  the  sprouting  grain — 
Yearly  green  is  the  strife  between 
Jubal  and  Tubal  Cain! 

Jubal  sang  of  the  new-found  sea, 

And  the  love  that  its  waves  divide — 
But  Tubal  hollowed  a  fallen  tree 
And  passed  to  the  farther  side. 

Black — black  as  the  hurricane-wrack, 

Salt  as  the  under-main — 
Bitter  and  cold  is  the  hate  they  hold — 
Jubal  and  Tubal  Cain! 

Jubal  sang  of  the  golden  years 

When  wars  and  wounds  shall  cease — 
But  Tubal  fashioned  the  hand-flung  spears 
And  showed  his  neighbours  peace. 
New — new  as  the  Nine-point-two, 

Older  than  Lamech's  slain — 
Roaring  and  loud  is  the  feud  avowed 
Twix'  Jubal  and  Tubal  Cain! 
Ill 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Jubal  sang  of  the  cliffs  that  bar 

And  the  peaks  that  none  may  crown — 
But  Tubal  clambered  by  jut  and  scar 
And  there  he  buildcd  a  town. 
High— high  as  the  snowsheds  lie, 

Low  as  the  culverts  drain — 
Wherever  they  be  they  can  never  agree- 
Jubal  and  Tubal  Cain! 


112 


THE  VOORTREKKER 

THE  gull  shall  whistle  in  his  wake,  the  blind  wave 
break  in  fire. 
He  shall  fulfil  God's  utmost  will,  unknowing  his 
desire. 

And  he  shall  see  old  planets  change  and  alien  stars  arise. 

And  give  the  gale  his  seaworn  sail  in  shadow  of  new  skies. 

Strong  lust  of  gear  shall  drive  him  forth  and  hunger  arm 
his  hand, 

To  win  his  food  from  the  desert  rude,  his  pittance  from 
the  sand. 

His  neighbours'  smoke  shall  vex  his  eyes,  their  voices 
break  his  rest. 

He  shall  go  forth  till  south  is  north  sullen  and  dis- 
possessed. 

He  shall  desire  loneliness  and  his  desire  shall  bring, 

Hard  on  his  heels,  a  thousand  wheels,  a  People  and  a 
King. 

He  shall  come  back  on  his  own  track,  and  by  his  scarce- 
cooled  camp 

There  shall  he  meet  the  roaring  street,  the  derrick  and 
the  stamp : 

There  shall  he  blaze  a  nation's  ways  with  hatchet  and 
with  brand. 

Till  on  his  last-won  wilderness  an  Empire's  outposts 
stand. 

113 


A  SCHOOL  SONG 

^  T  ET  us  now  praise  famous  men' — 
I  Men  of  little  showing — 

-■—'For  their  work  continueth, 
And  their  work  continueth, 
Broad  and  deep  continueth, 
Greater  than  their  knowing! 

Western  wind  and  open  surge 
Took  us  from  our  mothers, 

Flung  us  on  a  naked  shore 

(Twelve  bleak  houses  by  the  shore! 

Seven  summers  by  the  shore!) 
'Mid  two  hundred  brothers. 

There  we  met  with  famous  men 

Set  in  office  o'er  us; 
And  they  beat  on  us  with  rods^ 
Faithfully  with  many  rods — 
Daily  beat  us  on  with  rods, 

For  the  love  they  bore  us! 

Out  of  Egypt  unto  Troy — 

Over  Himalaya — 
Far  and  sure  our  bands  have  gone— 
Hy-Brasil  or  Babylon, 
Islands  of  the  Southern  Run, 

And  Cities  of  Cathaia! 
114 


A  SCHOOL  SONG 

And  we  all  praise  famous  men — 

Ancients  of  the  College; 
For  they  taught  us  common  sense — 
Tried  to  teach  us  common  sense- 
Truth  and  God's  Own  Common  Sense, 

Which  is  more  than  knowledge! 

Each  degree  of  Latitude 

Strung  about  Creation 
Seeth  one  or  more  of  us 
(Of  one  muster  each  of  us), 
Diligent  in  that  he  does. 

Keen  in  his  vocation. 

This  we  learned  from  famous  men, 

Knowing  not  its  uses, 
When  they  showed,  in  daily  work, 
Man  must  finish  off  his  work — 
Right  or  wrong,  his  daily  work — 

And  without  excuses. 

Servants  of  the  Staff  and  chain, 
Mine  and  fuse  and  grapnel — 

Some  before  the  face  of  Kings, 

Stand  before  the  face  of  Kings; 

Bearing  gifts  to  divers  Kings — 
Gifts  of  case  and  shrapnel. 

This  we  learned  from  famous  men 

Teaching  in  our  borders, 
Who  declared  it  was  best. 
Safest,  easiest,  and  best — 
Expeditious,  wise,  and  best — 

To  obey  your  orders. 
115 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Some  beneath  the  farther  stars 

Bear  the  greater  burden : 
Set  to  serve  the  lands  they  rule, 
(Save  he  serve  no  man  may  rule), 
Serve  and  love  the  lands  they  rule; 
Seeking  praise  nor  guerdon. 

This  we  learned  from  famous  men. 

Knowing  not  we  learned  it. 
Only,  as  the  years  went  by — 
lonely,  as  the  years  went  by — 
Far  from  help  as  years  went  by, 
Plainer  we  discerned  it. 

Wherefore  praise  we  famous  men 
From  whose  bays  we  borrow — 
They  that  put  aside  To-day — 
All  the  joys  of  their  To-day — 
And  with  toil  of  their  To-day 
Bought  for  us  To-morrow! 

Bless  and  praise  we  famous  men — 

Men  of  little  showing — 
For  their  work  continueth, 
And  Iheir  work  continueth, 
Broad  and  deep  continueth, 
Great  beyond  their  knowing! 


116 


N 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  JUNGLE 

OW  this  is  the  Law  of  the  Jungle — as  old  and  as 

true  as  the  sky; 
And  the  Wolf  that  shall  keep  it  may  prosper,  but 

the  Wolf  that  shall  break  it  must  die. 


As  the  creeper  that  girdles  the  tree-trunk  the  Law  run- 
neth forward  and  back — 

For  the  strength  of  the  Pack  is  the  Wolf,  and  the  strength 
of  the  Wolf  is  the  Pack. 

Wash  daily  from  nose-tip  to  tail-tip;  drink  deeply,  but 

never  too  deep; 
And  remember  the  night  is  for  hunting,  and  forget  not 

the  day  is  for  sleep. 

The  Jackal  may  follow  the  Tiger,  but,  Cub,  when  thy 

whiskers  are  grown. 
Remember  the  Wolf  is  a  hunter — go  forth  and  get  food 

of  thine  own. 

Keep  peace  with  the  Lords  of  the  Jungle—the  Tiger,  the 

Panther,  the  Bear; 
And  trouble  not  Hathi  the  Silent,  and  mock  not  the 

Boar  in  his  lair. 

117 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

When  Pack  meets  with  Pack  in  the  Jungle,  and  neither 

will  go  from  the  trail, 
Lie  down  till  the  leaders  have  spoken — it  may  be  fair 

words  shall  prevail. 

When  ye  fight  with  a  Wolf  of  the  Pack,  ye  must  fight  him 

alone  and  afar. 
Lest  others  take  part  in  the  quarrel,  and  the  Pack  be 

diminished  by  war. 

The  Lair  of  the  Wolf  is  his  refuge,  and  where  he  has 
made  him  his  home, 

Not  even  the  Head  Wolf  may  enter,  not  even  the  Coun- 
cil may  come. 

The  Lair  of  the  Wolf  is  his  refuge,  but  where  he  has 

digged  it  too  plain. 
The  Council  shall  send  him  a  message,  and  so  he  shall 

change  it  again. 

If  ye  kill  before  midnight,  be  silent,  and  wake  not  the 

woods  with  your  bay, 
Lest  ye  frighten  the  deer  from  the  crops,  and  the  brothers 

go  empty  away. 

Ye  may  kill  for  yourselves,  and  your  mates,  and  your 

cubs  as  they  need,  and  ye  can; 
But  kill  not  for  pleasure  of  killing,  and  seven  times 

never  kill  Man! 

If  ye  plunder  his  Kill  from  a  weaker,  devour  not  all  in 

thy  pride; 
Pack-Right  is  the  right  of  the  meanest;  so  leave  him  the 

head  and  the  hide. 

118 


thp:  law  of  the  jungle 

The  Kill  of  the  Pack  is  the  meat  of  the  Pack.     Ye  must 

eat  where  it  lies; 
And  no  one  may  carry  away  of  that  meat  to  his  lair,  or 

he  dies. 

The  Kill  of  the  Wolf  is  the  meat  of  the  Wolf.     He  may 

do  what  he  will, 
But,  till  he  has  given  permission,  the  Pack  may  not  eat 

of  that  Kill. 

Cub-Right  is  the  right  of  the  Yearling.     From  all  of  his 

Pack  he  may  claim 
Full-gorge  when  the  killer  has  eaten ;  and  none  may  refuse 

him  the  same. 

Lair-Right  is  the  right  of  the  Mother.     From  all  of  her 

year  she  may  claim 
One  haunch  of  each  kill  for  her  litter;  and  none  may  deny 

her  the  same. 

Cave-Right  is  the  right  of  the  Father — to  hunt  by  him- 
self for  his  own : 

He  is  freed  of  all  calls  to  the  Pack;  he  is  judged  by  the 
Council  alone. 

Because  of  his  age  and  his  cunning,  because  of  his  gripe 

and  his  paw, 
In  all  that  the  Law  leaveth  open,  the  word  of  the  Head 

Wolf  is  Law. 

Now  these  are  the  Laws  of  the  Jungle,  and  many  and 

mighty  are  they; 
But  the  head  and  the  hoof  of  the  Law  and  the  haunch 

and  the  hump  is — Obey! 

119 


*A  SERVANT  WHEN  HE  REIGNETH' 

(For  three  things  the  earth  is  disquieted,  and  for  four 
which  it  cannot  bear.  For  a  servant  when  he  reigneth, 
and  a  fool  when  he  is  filled  with  meat;  for  an  odious 
woman  when  she  is  married,  and  an  handmaid  thai  is 
heir  to  her  mistress. — Prov.  xxx.  21-23.) 

THREE  things  make  earth  unquiet, 
And  four  she  cannot  brook; 
The  godly  Agur  counted  them 
And  put  them  in  a  book — 
Those  Four  Tremendous  Curses 

With  which  mankind  is  cursed: 
But  a  Servant  when  he  Reigneth 
Old  Agur  counted  first. 

An  Handmaid  that  is  Mistress 

We  need  not  call  upon, 
A  Fool  when  he  is  full  of  Meat 

Will  fall  asleep  anon. 
An  Odious  Woman  Married 

May  bear  a  babe  and  mend, 
But  a  Servant  when  He  Reigneth 

Is  Confusion  to  the  end. 

His  feet  are  swift  to  tumult. 

His  hands  are  slow  to  toil, 
His  ears  are  deaf  to  reason, 

His  lips  are  loud  in  broil. 
120 


'A  SERVANT  WHEN  HE  REIGNETH' 

He  knows  no  use  for  power 

Except  lo  show  his  might, 
He  gives  no  heed  to  judgment 

Unless  it  prove  him  right. 

Because  he  served  a  master 

Before  his  Kingship  came, 
And  hid  in  all  disaster 

Behind  his  master's  name. 
So,  when  his  Folly  opens 

The  unnecessary  hells, 
A  Servant  when  He  Reigneth 

Throws  the  blame  on  some  one  else. 

His  vows  are  lightly  spoken. 

His  faith  is  hard  to  bind. 
His  trust  is  easy  broken, 

He  fears  his  fellow-kind. 
The  nearest  mob  will  move  him 

To  break  the  pledge  he  gave — 
Oh  a  Servant  when  He  Reigneth 

Is  more  than  ever  slave! 


121 


T 


MY  FATHER'S  CHAIR 

HERE  are  four  good  legs  to  my  Father's  Chair- 
Priest  and  People  and  Lords  and  Crown. 
I  sit  on  all  of  'em  fair  and  square, 

And  that  is  the  reason  it  don't  break  down. 


I  won't  trust  one  leg,  nor  two,  nor  three. 
To  carry  my  weight  when  I  sit  me  down, 

I  want  all  four  of  'em  under  me — 

Priest  and  People  and  Lords  and  Crown. 

I  sit  on  all  four  and  I  favour  none — 

Priest,  nor  People,  nor  Lords,  nor  Crown — 

And  I  never  tilt  in  my  chair,  my  son. 

And  that  is  the  reason  it  don't  break  down! 

When  your  time  comes  to  sit  in  my  Chair, 
Remember  your  Father's  habits  and  rules, 

Sit  on  all  four  legs,  fair  and  square, 

And  never  be  tempted  by  one-legged  stools! 


122 


'OUR  FATHERS  OF  OLD' 

EXCELLENT  herbs  had  our  fathers  of  old- 
Excellent  herbs  to  ease  their  pain — 
Alexanders  and  Marigold, 

Eyebright,  Orris,  and  Elecampane. 
Basil,  Rocket,  Valerian,  Rue 

(Almost  singing  themselves  they  run). 
Vervain,  Dittany,  Call-me-to-you — 
Cowslip,  Mehlot,  Rose  of  the  Sun. 
Anything  green  that  grew  out  of  the  mould 
Was  an  excellent  herb  to  our  fathers  of  old. 

Wonderful  tales  had  our  fathers  of  old — 

Wonderful  tales  of  the  herbs  and  the  stars — 
The  Sun  was  Lord  of  the  Marigold, 

Basil  and  Rocket  belonged  to  Mars. 
Pat  as  a  sum  in  division  it  goes — 

(Every  plant  had  a  star  bespoke) — 
Who  but  Venus  should  govern  the  Rose? 

Who  but  Jupiter  own  the  Oak? 

Simply  and  gravely  the  facts  are  told 

In  the  wonderful  books  of  our  fathers  of  old. 

Wonderful  little,  when  all  is  said. 

Wonderful  little  our  fathers  knew. 
Half  their  remedies  cured  you  dead — 

Most  of  their  teaching  was  quite  untrue — 

123 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

'  Look  at  the  stars  when  a  patient  is  ill 

(Dirt  has  nothing  to  do  with  disease). 
Bleed  and  blister  as  much  as  you  will, 

Blister  and  bleed  him  as  oft  as  you  please.' 
Whence  enormous  and  manifold 
Errors  were  made  by  our  fathers  of  old. 

Yet  when  the  sickness  was  sore  in  the  land, 

And  neither  planets  nor  herbs  assuaged, 
They  took  their  lives  in  their  lancet-hand 

And,  oh,  what  a  wonderful  war  they  waged ! 
Yes,  when  the  crosses  were  chalked  on  the  door — 

(Yes,  when  the  terrible  dead-cart  rolled). 
Excellent  courage  our  fathers  bore — 

Excellent  heart  had  our  fathers  of  old. 
None  too  learned,  but  nobly  bold 
Into  the  fight  went  our  fathers  of  old. 

If  it  be  certain,  as  Galen  says, 

And  sage  Hippocrates  holds  as  much — 
'That  those  afflicted  by  doubts  and  dismays 

Are  mightily  helped  by  a  dead  man's  touch,' 
Then,  be  good  to  us,  stars  above! 

Then,  be  good  to  us,  herbs  below! 
We  are  afflicted  by  what  we  can  prove. 
We  are  distracted  by  what  we  know. 
So- — ah,  so! 
Down  from  your  heaven  or  up  from  your  mould, 
Send  us  the  hearts  of  our  fathers  of  old! 


124 


BEFORE  EDGEHILL 
October,  1642 

NAKED  and  gray  the  Cotswolds  stand 
Beneath  the  autumn  sun, 
And  the  stubble  fields  on  either  hand 
Where  Stour  and  Avon  run. 
There  is  no  change  in  the  patient  land 
That  has  bred  us  every  one. 

She  should  have  passed  in  cloud  and  fire 

And  saved  us  from  this  sin 
Of  war — red  war — 'twixt  child  and  sire, 

Household  and  kith  and  kin, 
In  the  heart  of  a  sleepy  Midland  shire, 

With  the  harvest  scarcely  in. 

But  there  is  no  change  as  we  meet  at  last 
On  the  brow-head  or  the  plain. 

And  the  raw  astonished  ranks  stand  fast 
To  slay  or  to  be  slain 

By  the  men  they  knew  in  the  kindly  past 
That  shall  never  come  again — 

By  the  men  they  met  at  dance  or  chase, 

In  the  tavern  or  the  hall, 
At  the  justice-bench  and  the  market-place, 

125 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

At  the  cudgel-play  or  brawl, 
Of  their  own  blood  and  speech  and  race, 
Comrades  or  neighbours  all! 

More  bitter  than  death  this  day  must  prove 

Whichever  way  it  go, 
For  the  brothers  of  the  maids  we  love 

Make  ready  to  lay  low 
Their  sisters'  sweethearts,  as  we  move 

Against  our  dearest  foe. 

Thank  Heaven!     At  last  the  trumpets  peal 
Before  our  strength  gives  way. 

For  King  or  for  the  Commonweal 
No  matter  which  they  say, 

The  first  dry  rattle  of  new-drawn  steel 
Changes  the  world  to-day! 


126 


THE  HERITAGE 

OUR  Fathers  in  a  wondrous  age, 
Ere  yet  the  Earth  was  small, 
Ensured  to  us  an  heritage, 
And  doubted  not  at  all 
That  we,  the  children  of  their  heart, 

Which  then  did  beat  so  high, 
In  later  time  should  play  like  part 
For  our  posterity. 

A  thousand  years  they  steadfast  built, 

To  'vantage  us  and  ours, 
The  Walls  that  were  a  world's  despair. 

The  sea-constraining  Towers: 
Yet  in  their  midmost  pride  they  knew, 

And  unto  Kings  made  known, 
Not  all  from  these  their  strength  they  drew. 

Their  faith  from  brass  or  stone. 

Youth's  passion,  manhood's  fierce  intent. 

With  age's  judgment  wise, 
They  spent,  and  counted  not  they  spent, 

At  daily  sacrifice. 
Not  lambs  alone  nor  purchased  doves 

Or  tithe  of  trader's  gold — 
Their  lives  most  dear,  their  dearer  loves. 

They  offered  up  of  old. 
127 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Refraining  e'en  from  lawful  things, 

They  bowed  the  neck  to  bear 
The  unadorned  yoke  that  brings 

Stark  toil  and  sternest  care. 
Wherefore  through  them  is  Freedom  sure; 

Wherefore  through  them  we  stand 
From  all  but  sloth  and  pride  secure, 

In  a  delightsome  land. 

Then,  fretful,  murmur  not  they  gave 

So  great  a  charge  to  keep, 
Nor  dream  that  awestruck  Time  shall  save 

Their  labour  while  we  sleep. 
Dear-bought  and  clear,  a  thousand  year, 

Our  fathers'  title  runs. 
Make  we  likewise  their  sacrifice. 

Defrauding  not  our  sons. 


128 


THE  RIVER'S  TALE 

TWENTY  bridges  from  Tower  to  Kew 
Wanted  to  know  what  the  River  knew, 
For  they  were  young  and  the  Thames  was  old, 
And  this  is  the  tale  that  the  River  told: — 

'  I  walk  my  beat  before  London  Town, 

Five  hours  up  and  seven  down. 

Up  I  go  and  I  end  my  run 

At  Tide-end-town,  which  is  Teddington. 

Down  I  come  with  the  mud  in  my  hands 

And  plaster  it  over  the  Maphn  Sands. 

But  I'd  have  you  know  that  these  waters  of  mine 

Were  once  a  branch  of  the  River  Rhine, 

When  hundreds  of  miles  to  the  East  I  went 

And  England  was  joined  to  the  Continent. 

'  I  remember  the  bat-winged  lizard-birds. 
The  Age  of  Ice  and  the  mammoth  herds. 
And  the  giant  tigers  that  stalked  them  down 
Through  Regent's  Park  into  Camden  Town. 
And  I  remember  like  yesterday 
The  earliest  Cockney  who  came  my  way, 
When  he  pushed  through  the  forest  that  hned  the  Strand, 
With  paint  on  his  face  and  a  club  in  his  hand. 
He  was  death  to  feather  and  fm  and  fur. 
He  trapped  my  beavers  at  Westminster, 

129 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

He  netted  my  salmon,  he  hunted  my  deer, 

He  killed  my  herons  off  Lambeth  Pier; 

He  fought  his  neighbour  with  axes  and  swords, 

Flint  or  bronze,  at  my  upper  fords. 

While  down  at  Greenwich  for  slaves  and  tin 

The  tall  Phoenician  ships  stole  in, 

And  North  Sea  war-boats,  painted  and  gay. 

Flashed  like  dragon-flies  Erith  way; 

And  Norseman  and  Negro  and  Gaul  and  Greek 

Drank  with  the  Britons  in  Barking  Creek, 

And  life  was  gay,  and  the  world  was  new, 

And  I  was  a  mile  across  at  Kew! 

But  the  Roman  came  with  a  heavy  hand. 

And  bridged  and  roaded  and  ruled  the  land. 

And  the  Roman  left  and  the  Danes  blew  in — 

And  that's  where  your  history  books  begin!' 


130 


SONG  OF  THE  FIFTH  RIVER 

WHEN  first  by  Eden  Tree, 
The  Four  Great  Rivers  ran, 
To  each  was  appointed  a  Man 
Her  Prince  and  Ruler  to  be. 


But  after  this  was  ordained 
(The  ancient  legends  tell), 
There  came  dark  Israel, 
For  whom  no  River  remained. 


Then  He  Whom  the  Rivers  obey 

Said  to  him:  'Fling  on  the  ground 

A  handful  of  yellow  clay. 

And  a  Fifth  Great  River  shall  run, 

Mightier  than  these  Four, 

In  secret  the  Earth  around; 

And  Her  secret  evermore, 

Shall  be  shown  to  thee  and  thy  Race.' 


So  it  was  said  and  done. 
And,  deep  in  the  veins  of  Earth, 
And,  fed  by  a  thousand  springs 
That  comfort  the  market-place, 
131 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Or  sap  the  power  of  Kings, 
The  Fifth  Great  River  had  birth, 
Even  as  it  was  foretold — 
The  Secret  River  of  Gold! 


And  Israel  laid  down 
His  sceptre  and  his  crown, 
To  brood  on  that  River  bank, 
Where  the  waters  flashed  and  sank, 
And  burrowed  in  earth  and  fell, 
And  bided  a  season  below. 
For  reason  that  none  might  know, 
Save  only  Israel. 

He  is  Lord  of  the  Last — 

The  Fifth,  most  wonderful.  Flood. 

He  hears  Her  thunder  past 

And  Her  Song  is  in  his  blood. 

He  can  foresay:  'She  will  fall,' 

For  he  knows  which  fountain  dries 

Behind  which  desert-belt 

A  thousand  leagues  to  the  South. 

He  can  foresay:  'She  will  rise.' 
He  knows  what  far  snows  melt 
Along  what  mountain-wall 
A  thousand  leagues  to  the  North. 
He  snuffs  the  coming  drouth 
As  he  snuffs  the  coming  rain. 
He  knows  what  each  will  bring  forth, 
And  turns  it  to  his  gain. 
132 


SONG  OF  THE  FIFTH  RIVER 

A  Ruler  without  a  Throne, 

A  Prince  without  a  Sword, 

Israel  follows  his  quest. 

In  every  land  a  guest, 

Of  many  lands  a  lord, 

In  no  land  King  is  he. 

But  the  Fifth  Great  River  keeps 

The  secret  of  Her  deeps 

For  Israel  alone. 

As  it  was  ordered  to  be. 


133 


THE  CHILDREN'S  SONG 

E^JD  of  our  Birth,  we  pledge  to  thee 
Our  love  and  toil  in  the  years  to  be; 
When  we  arc  grown  and  take  our  place, 
As  men  and  women  with  our  race. 

Father  in  Heaven  who  lovest  all, 
Oh  help  Thy  children  when  they  call; 
That  they  may  build  from  age  to  age. 
An  undefiled  heritage. 

Teach  us  to  bear  the  yoke  in  youth, 
With  steadfastness  and  careful  truth; 
That,  in  our  time.  Thy  Grace  may  give 
The  Truth  whereby  the  Nations  live. 

Teach  us  to  rule  ourselves  alway, 
Controlled  and  cleanly  night  and  day; 
That  we  may  bring,  if  need  arise, 
No  maimed  or  worthless  sacrifice. 

Teach  us  to  look  in  all  our  ends, 
On  Thee  for  judge,  and  not  our  friends; 
That  we,  with  Thee,  may  walk  unco  wed 
By  fear  or  favour  of  the  crowd. 

134 


THE  CHILDREN'S  SONG 

Teach  us  the  Strength  that  cannot  seek, 
By  deed  or  thought,  to  hurt  the  weak; 
That,  under  Thee,  we  may  possess 
Man's  strength  to  comfort  man's  distress. 


Teach  us  Dehght  in  simple  things, 
And  Mirth  that  has  no  bitter  springs; 
Forgiveness  free  of  evil  done. 
And  Love  to  all  men  'neath  the  sun! 

Land  of  our  Birth,  our  faith,  our  pride. 

For  whose  dear  sake  our  fathers  died; 

O  Motherland,  we  pledge  to  thee. 

Head,  heart,  and  hand  through  the  years  to  be! 


135 


PARADE-SONG  OF  THE  CAMP-ANIMALS 

Elephants  of  the  Gun-Teams 

WE  lent  to  Alexander  the  strength  of  Hercules, 
The  wisdom  of  our  foreheads,  the  cunning  of 
our  knees. 
We  bowed  our  necks  to  service;  they  ne'er  were  loosed 

again,— 
Make  way  there,  way  for  the  ten-foot  teams 
Of  the  Forty-Pounder  train! 

Gun-Bullocks 

Those  heroes  in  their  harnesses  avoid  a  cannon-ball. 
And  what  they  know  of  powder  upsets  them  one  and 

all; 
Then  we  come  into  action  and  tug  the  guns  again, — 
Make  way  there,  way  for  the  twenty  yoke 
Of  the  Forty-Pounder  train! 

Cavalry  Horses 

By  the  brand  on  my  withers,  the  fmest  of  tunes 
Is  played  by  the  Lancers,  Hussars,  and  Dragoons, 
And  it's  sweeter  than  'Stables'  or  'Water'  to  me, 
The  Cavalry  Canter  of  'Bonnie  Dundee'! 

136 


PARADE-SONG  OF  THE  CAMP-ANIMALS 

Then  feed  us  and  break  us  and  handle  and  groom, 
And  give  us  good  riders  and  plenty  of  room. 
And  launch  us  in  column  of  squadron  and  see 
The  Way  of  the  War-horse  to  'Bonnie  Dundee'! 


Screw-Gun  Mules 

As  me  and  my  companions  were  scrambling  up  a  hill. 
The  path  was  lost  in  rolhng  stones,  but  we  went  forward 

still; 
For  we  can  wriggle  and  climb,  my  lads,  and  turn  up 

everywhere. 
And  it's  our  delight  on  a  mountain  height,  with  a  leg  or 

two  to  spare! 

Good  luck  to  every  sergeant,  then,  that  lets  us  pick  our 

road! 
Bad  luck  to  all  the  driver-men  that  cannot  pack  a  load! 
For  we  can  wriggle  and  climb,  my  lads,  and  turn  up 

everywhere. 
And  it's  our  dehght  on  a  mountain  height,  with  a  leg  or 

two  to  spare! 


Commissariat  Camels 

We  haven't  a  camel ty  tune  of  our  own 
To  help  us  trollop  along. 
But  every  neck  is  a  hair-trombone 
(Rtt-ta-ta-ta !  is  a  hair-trombone!) 
And  this  is  our  marching-song: 
Can't!     Don't!     Shan't!    Won't! 
Pass  it  along  the  line! 

137 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Somebody's  pack  has  slid  from  his  back, 
'Wish  it  were  only  mine! 
Somebody's  load  has  tipped  off  in  the  road- 
Cheer  for  a  halt  and  a  row! 
Urrr!  Yarrh!  Grr!  Arrh! 
Somebody's  catching  it  now! 


All  the  Beasts  Together 

Children  of  the  Camp  are  we, 
Serving  each  in  his  degree; 
Children  of  the  yoke  and  goad. 
Pack  and  harness,  pad  and  load. 
See  our  line  across  the  plain. 
Like  a  heel-rope  bent  again, 
Reaching,  writhing,  rolling  far. 
Sweeping  all  away  to  war! 
While  the  men  that  walk  beside. 
Dusty,  silent,  heavy-eyed. 
Cannot  tell  why  we  or  they 
March  and  suffer  day  by  day. 
Children  of  the  Camp  are  we, 
Serving  each  in  his  degree; 
Children  of  the  yoke  and  goad, 
Pack  and  harness,  pad  and  load. 


138 


T 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 
Beast  and  Man  in  India 

HEY  killed  a  child  to  please  the  Gods 
In  earth's  young  penitence, 

And  I  have  bled  in  that  Babe's  stead 
Because  of  innocence. 


I  bear  the  sins  of  sinful  men 

That  have  no  sin  of  my  own ; 
They  drive  me  forth  to  Heaven's  wrath 

Unpastured  and  alone. 

I  am  the  meat  of  sacrifice, 

The  ransom  of  man's  guilt, 
For  they  give  my  life  to  the  altar  knife 

Wherever  shrine  is  built. 

'The  Goat.' 

Between  the  waving  tufts  of  jungle-grass. 
Up  from  the  river  as  the  twilight  falls. 
Across  the  dust-beclouded  plain  they  pass 
On  to  the  village  walls. 

Great  is  the  sword  and  mighty  is  the  pen, 
But  greater  far  the  labouring  ploughman's  blade, 
For  on  its  oxen  and  its  husbandmen 
An  Empire's  strength  is  laid. 

'The  Oxen.' 
139 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

The  lorn  boughs  trailing  o'er  the  tusks  aslant. 
The  saplings  reeling  in  the  path  he  trod. 

Declare  his  might — our  lord  the  Elephant, 
Chief  of  the  ways  of  God. 

The  black  bulk  heaving  where  the  oxen  pant. 
The  bowed  head  toiling  where  the  guns  careen. 

Declare  our  might — our  slave  the  Elephant, 
And  servant  of  the  Queen. 

'The  Elephant.' 

Dark  children  of  the  mere  and  marsh, 

Wallow  and  waste  and  lea; 
Outcaste  they  wait  at  the  village  gate 

With  folk  of  low  degree. 

Their  pasture  is  in  no  man's  land, 

Their  food  the  cattle's  scorn; 
Their  rest  is  mire  and  their  desire 

The  thicket  and  the  thorn. 

But  woe  to  those  who  break  their  sleep, 

And  woe  to  those  who  dare 
To  rouse  the  herd-bull  from  his  keep, 

The  wild  boar  from  his  lair! 

*Pigs  and  Buft'aloes.' 

The  beasts  are  very  wise, 
Their  mouths  are  clean  of  lies; 
They  talk  one  to  the  other, 
Bullock  to  bullock's  brother 
Resting  after  their  labours. 
Each  in  stall  with  his  neighbours. 
But  man  with  goad  and  whip, 
Breaks  up  their  fellowship, 
140 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

Shouts  in  their  silky  ears 
Filling  their  souls  with  fears. 
When  he  has  ploughed  the  land, 
He  says: — 'They  understand.' 
But  the  beasts  in  stall  together. 
Freed  from  the  yoke  and  tether. 
Say  as  the  torn  flanks  smoke — 
*Nay,  'twas  the  whip  that  spoke.' 


Life's  Handicap 

There's  a  convict  more  in  the  Central  Jail 

Behind  the  old  mud  wall; 
There's  a  lifter  less  on  the  Border  trail, 
And  the  Queen's  peace  over  all, 

Dear  boys, 
The  Queen's  peace  over  all! 

For  we  must  bear  our  leader's  blame. 

On  us  the  shame  will  fall, 
If  we  lift  our  hand  from  a  fettered  land 
And  the  Queen's  peace  over  all. 

Dear  boys, 
The  Queen's  peace  over  all! 

'The  Head  of  the  District.' 

The  doors  were  wide,  the  story  saith. 
Out  of  the  night  came  the  patient  wraith, 
He  might  not  speak  and  he  could  not  stir 
A  hair  of  the  Baron's  minniver. 
Speechless  and  strengthless  a  shadow  thin, 
He  roved  the  castle  to  fmd  his  kin. 
141 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

And  oh!  'twas  a  piteous  sight  to  see 
The  dumb  ghost  follow  his  enemy! 

'The  Return  of  Imray.' 

Before  my  Spring  I  garnered  Autumn's  gain, 
Out  of  her  time  my  field  was  white  with  grain, 

The  year  gave  up  her  secrets,  to  my  woe. 
Forced  and  deflowered  each  sick  season  lay, 
In  mystery  of  increase  and  decay. 
I  saw  the  sunset  ere  men  see  the  day, 

Y\'ho  am  too  wise  in  all  I  should  not  know. 

'  Without  Benefit  of  Clergy.' 


Many  Inventions 

And  if  ye  doubt  the  tale  I  tell, 
Steer  through  the  South  Pacific  swell; 
Go  where  the  branching  coral  hives 
Unending  strife  of  endless  lives, 
Where,  leagued  about  the  'wildered  boat, 
The  rainbow  jellies  fill  and  float; 
And,  lilting  where  the  laver  lingers, 
The  starfish  trips  on  all  her  fingers; 
Where,  'neath  his  myriad  spines  ashock. 
The  sea-egg  ripples  down  the  rock, 
An  orange  wonder  dimly  guessed, 
From  darkness  where  the  cuttles  rest, 
Moored  o'er  the  darker  deeps  that  hide 
The  blind  while  Sea-snake  and  his  bride 
Wlio,  drowsing,  nose  the  long-lost  ships 
Let  down  through  darkness  to  their  lips. 

'A  Matter  of  Fact.' 
142 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

'Less  you  want  your  toes  trod  off  you'd  better  get  back 
at  once, 
For  the  bullocks  are  walkin'  two  by  two, 
The  byles  are  walkin'  two  by  two, 
The  bullocks  are  walkin'  two  by  two, 
And  the  elephants  bring  the  guns. 
Ho!     Yuss! 


Great — big — long — black — forty-pounder  guns : 
Jiggery -jolty  to  and  fro, 
Each  as  big  as  a  launch  in  tow — 
Blind — dumb — broad-breeched — beggars   o'  battering- 
guns. 

'My  Lord  the  Elephant.' 

All  the  world  over,  nursing  their  scars, 
Sit  the  old  fighting-men  broke  in  the  wars — 
Sit  the  old  fighting-men,  surly  and  grim, 
Mocking  the  lilt  of  the  conquerors'  hymn. 


Dust  of  the  battle  o'erwhelmed  them  and  hid. 
Fame  never  found  them  for  aught  that  they  did. 
Wounded  and  spent  to  the  lazar  they  drew. 
Lining  the  road  where  the  Legions  roll  through. 


Sons  of  the  Laurel  who  press  to  your  meed, 
(Worthy  God's  pity  most— ye  who  succeed!) 
Ere  you  go  triumphing,  crowned,  to  the  stars, 
Pity  poor  fighting  men,  broke  in  the  wars! 

'Collected.' 
143 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 
Kim 

Unlo  whose  use  the  pregnant  suns  are  poised 
With  idiot  moons  and  stars  retracting  stars? 

Creep  thou  between — thy  coming's  all  unnoised. 
Heaven  hath  her  high,  as  Earth  her  baser,  wars. 

Heir  to  these  tumults,  this  affright,  that  fray 

(By  Adam's,  father's,  own,  sin  bound  alway); 

Peer  up,  draw  out  thy  horoscope  and  say 

WTiich  planet  mends  thy  threadbare  fate,  or  mars. 


144 


IF— 

IF  you  can  keep  your  head  when  all  about  you 
Are  losing  theirs  and  blaming  it  on  you, 
If  you  can  trust  yourself  when  all  men  doubt  you, 
But  make  allowance  for  their  doubting  too; 
If  you  can  wait  and  not  be  tired  by  waiting, 

Or  being  lied  about,  don't  deal  in  hes. 
Or  being  hated  don't  give  way  to  hating. 

And  yet  don't  look  too  good,  nor  talk  too  wise: 

If  you  can  dream — and  not  make  dreams  your  master; 

If  you  can  think — and  not  make  thoughts  your  aim. 
If  you  can  meet  with  Triumph  and  Disaster 

And  treat  those  two  impostors  just  the  same; 
If  you  can  bear  to  hear  the  truth  you've  spoken 

Twisted  by  knaves  to  make  a  trap  for  fools. 
Or  watch  the  things  you  gave  your  life  to,  broken, 

And  stoop  and  build  'em  up  with  worn-out  tools: 

If  you  can  make  one  heap  of  all  your  winnings 

And  risk  it  on  one  turn  of  pitch-and-toss, 
And  lose,  and  start  again  at  your  beginnings 

And  never  breathe  a  word  about  your  loss; 
If  you  can  force  your  heart  and  nerve  and  sinew 

To  serve  your  turn  long  after  they  are  gone, 
And  so  hold  on  when  there  is  nothing  in  you 

Except  the  Will  which  says  to  them:  'Hold  on!' 

145 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

If  you  can  talk  with  crowds  and  keep  your  virtue, 

Or  walk  with  Kings — nor  lose  the  common  touch, 
If  neither  foes  nor  loving  friends  can  hurt  you, 

If  all  men  count  with  you,  but  none  too  much; 
If  you  can  fill  the  unforgiving  minute 

With  sixty  seconds'  worth  of  distance  run, 
Yours  is  the  Earth  and  everything  that's  in  it, 

And — which  is  more — you'll  be  a  Man,  my  son! 


146 


OUTSONG  IN  THE  JUNGLE 
Baloo 

FOR  the  sake  of  him  who  showed 
One  wise  Frog  the  Jungle-Road, 
Keep  the  Law  the  Man-Pack  make- 
For  thy  bhnd  old  Baloo's  sake! 
Clean  or  tainted,  hot  or  stale, 
Hold  it  as  it  were  the  Trail, 
Through  the  day  and  through  the  night, 
Questing  neither  left  nor  right. 
For  the  sake  of  him  who  loves 
Thee  beyond  all  else  that  moves. 
When  thy  Pack  would  make  thee  pain, 
Say:  'Tabaqui  sings  again.' 
When  thy  Pack  would  work  thee  ill. 
Say:  'Shere  Khan  is  yet  to  kill.' 
When  the  knife  is  drawn  to  slay. 
Keep  the  Law  and  go  thy  way. 
(Root  and  honey,  palm  and  spathe, 
Guard  a  cub  from  harm  and  scathe!) 
Wood  and  Water,  Wind  and  Tree, 
Jungle-Favour  go  with  thee! 

Kaa 

Anger  is  the  egg  of  Fear — 
Only  lidless  eyes  are  clear. 
147 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Cobra-poison  none  may  leech. 
Even  so  with  Cobra-speech. 
Open  talk  shall  call  to  thee 
Strength,  whose  mate  is  Courtesy. 
Send  no  lunge  beyond  thy  length; 
Lend  no  rotten  bough  thy  strength. 
Gauge  thy  gape  with  buck  or  goat. 
Lest  thine  eye  should  choke  thy  throat. 
After  gorging,  wouldst  thou  sleep? 
Look  thy  den  be  hid  and  deep. 
Lest  a  wrong,  by  thee  forgot, 
Draw  thy  killer  to  the  spot. 
East  and  West  and  North  and  South, 
Wash  thy  hide  and  close  thy  mouth. 
(Pit  and  rift  and  blue  pool-brim, 
Middle-Jungle  follow  him!) 
Wood  and  Water,  Wind  and  Tree, 
Jungle-Favour  go  with  thee! 

Bagheera 

In  the  cage  my  life  began; 
Well  I  know  the  worth  of  Man. 
By  the  Broken  Lock  that  freed — 
Man-cub,  'ware  the  Man-cub's  breed! 
Scenting-dew  or  starlight  pale, 
Choose  no  tangled  tree-cat  trail. 
Pack  or  council,  hunt  or  den. 
Cry  no  truce  with  Jackal-Men. 
Feed  them  silence  when  they  say : 
'Come  with  us  an  easy  way.' 
Feed  them  silence  when  they  seek 
Help  of  thine  to  hurt  the  weak. 
148 


OUTSONG  IN  THE  JUNGLE 

Make  no  bandar's  boast  of  skill; 
Hold  thy  peace  above  the  kill. 
Let  nor  call  nor  song  nor  sign 
Turn  thee  from  thy  hunting-line. 
(Morning  mist  or  twilight  clear, 
Serve  him,  Wardens  of  the  Deer!) 
Wood  and  Water,  Wind  and  Tree, 
Jungle-Favour  go  with  thee! 

The  Three 

On  the  trail  that  thou  must  tread 
To  the  thresholds  of  our  dread, 
Where  the  Flower  blossoms  red; 
Through  the  nights  when  thou  shalt  lie 
Prisoned  from  our  Mother-sky, 
Hearing  us,  thy  loves,  go  by; 
In  the  dawns  when  thou  shalt  wake 
To  the  toil  thou  canst  not  break, 
Heartsick  for  the  Jungle's  sake: 
Wood  and  Water,  Wind  and  Tree, 
Wisdom,  Strength,  and  Courtesy, 
Jungle-Favour  go  with  thee! 


149 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON 

(Western  Version) 

ERE  come  I  to  my  own  again, 
Fed,  forgiven  and  known  again, 
Claimed  by  bone  of  my  bone  again, 
And  cheered  by  flesh  of  my  flesh. 
The  fatted  calf  is  dressed  for  me, 
But  the  husks  have  greater  zest  for  me, 
I  think  my  pigs  will  be  best  for  me. 
So  I'm  oil  to  the  Yards  afresh. 


I  never  was  very  refined,  you  see 

(And  it  weighs  on  my  brother's  mind,  you  see), 

But  there's  no  reproach  among  swine,  d'yt)u  see. 

For  being  a  bit  of  a  swine. 
So  I'm  off  with  wallet  and  staff  to  eat 
The  bread  that  is  three  parts  chaff  to  wheat, 
But  glory  be! — there's  a  laugh  to  it, 

Which  isn't  the  case  when  we  dine. 


My  father  glooms  and  advises  me. 
My  brother  sulks  and  despises  me. 
And  Mother  catechises  me 

Till  I  want  to  go  out  and  swear. 

150 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON 

And,  in  spite  of  the  butler's  gravity, 
I  know  that  the  servants  have  it  I 
Am  a  monster  of  moral  depravity. 
And  I'm  damned  if  I  think  it's  fair! 


I  wasted  my  substance,  I  know  I  did, 

On  riotous  living,  so  I  did, 

But  there's  nothing  on  record  to  show  I  did 

Worse  than  my  betters  have  done. 
They  talk  of  the  money  I  spent  out  there — 
They  hint  at  the  pace  that  I  went  out  there — 
But  they  all  forget  I  was  sent  out  there 

Alone  as  a  rich  man's  son. 

So  I  was  a  mark  for  plunder  at  once. 

And  lost  my  cash  (can  you  wonder?)  at  once, 

But  I  didn't  give  up  and  knock  under  at  once, 

I  worked  in  the  Yards,  for  a  spell. 
Where  I  spent  my  nights  and  my  days  with  hogs, 
And  shared  their  milk  and  maize  with  hogs. 
Till,  I  guess,  I  have  learned  what  pays  with  hogs 

And — I  have  that  knowledge  to  sell! 

So  back  I  go  to  my  job  again, 

Not  so  easy  to  rob  again, 

Or  quite  so  ready  to  sob  agam 

On  any  neck  that's  around. 
I'm  leaving.  Pater.     Good-bye  to  you! 
God  bless  you,  Mater!     I'll  write  to  you.     .     .     . 
I  wouldn't  be  impolite  to  you. 

But,  Brother,  you  are  a  hound! 

151 


A  SONG  OF  KABIR 

OH,  light  was  the  world  that  he  weighed  in  his 
hands! 
Oh,  heavy  the  tale  of  his  fiefs  and  his  lands! 
He  has  gone  from  the  guddee  and  put  on  the  shroud, 
And  departed  in  guise  of  bairagi  avowed! 

Now  the  white  road  to  Delhi  is  mat  for  his  feet. 
The  sal  and  the  kikar  must  guard  him  from  heat. 
His  home  is  the  camp,  and  the  waste,  and  the  crowd — 
He  is  seeking  the  Way  as  bairagi  avowed ! 

He  has  looked  upon  Man,  and  his  eyeballs  are  clear — 
(There  was  One;  there  is  One,  and  but  One,  saith  Kabir) ; 
The  Red  Mist  of  Doing  has  thinned  to  a  cloud — 
He  has  taken  the  Path  for  bairagi  avowed! 

To  learn  and  discern  of  his  brother  the  clod. 
Of  his  brother  the  brute,  and  his  brother  the  God, 
He  has  gone  from  the  council  and  put  on  the  shroud 
('Can  ye  hear?'  saith  Kabir),  a  bairagi  avowed! 


152 


I 


THE  NECESSITARIAN 

KNOW  not  in  Whose  hands  are  laid 

To  empty  upon  earth 
From  unsuspected  ambuscade 

The  very  Urns  of  Mirth; 


W^ho  bids  the  Heavenly  Lark  arise 
And  cheer  our  solemn  round — 

The  Jest  beheld  with  streaming  eyes 
And  grovellings  on  the  ground; 

Who  joins  the  flats  of  Time  and  Chance 

Behind  the  prey  preferred, 
And  thrones  on  Shrieking  Circumstance 

The  Sacredly  Absurd, 

Till  Laughter,  voiceless  through  excess, 
Waves  mute  appeal  and  sore, 

Above  the  midriff's  deep  distress, 
For  breath  to  laugh  once  more. 

No  creed  hath  dared  to  hail  Him  Lord, 
No  raptured  choirs  proclaim, 

And  Nature's  strenuous  Overword 
Hath  nowhere  breathed  His  Name. 
153 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Yet,  it  must  be,  on  wayside  jape 
The  selfsame  Power  bestows 

The  selfsame  power  as  went  to  shape 
His  Planet  or  His  Rose. 


154 


THE  JESTER 

THERE  are  three  degrees  of  bliss 
At  the  foot  of  Allah's  Throne, 
And  the  highest  place  is  his 
Who  saves  a  brother's  soul 
At  peril  of  his  own; 
There  is  the  Power  made  known! 

There  are  three  degrees  of  bliss 
In  the  Gardens  of  Paradise, 
And  the  second  place  is  his 
Who  saves  his  brother's  soul 
By  excellent  advice. 
For  there  the  Glory  lies! 

There  are  three  degrees  of  bliss 
And  three  abodes  of  the  Blest, 
And  the  lowest  place  is  his 
Who  has  saved  a  soul  by  a  jest 
And  a  brother's  soul  in  sport     .     .     . 
But  there  do  the  Angels  resort! 


155 


A  SONG  OF  TRAVEL 

WHERE'S  the  lamp  that  Hero  lit 
Once  to  call  Leander  home? 
Equal  Time  hath  shovelled  it 
'Neath  the  wrack  of  Greece  and  Rome. 
Neither  wait  we  any  more 
That  worn  sail  which  Argo  bore. 

Dust  and  dust  of  ashes  close 

All  the  Vestal  Virgins'  care; 
And  the  oldest  altar  shows 

But  an  older  darkness  there. 
Age-encamped  Oblivion 
Tenteth  every  light  that  shone! 

Yet  shall  we,  for  Suns  that  die, 
Wall  our  wanderings  from  desire? 

Or,  because  the  Moon  is  high, 
Scorn  to  use  a  nearer  fire? 

Lest  some  envious  Pharaoh  stir, 

Make  our  lives  our  sepulchre? 

Nay!  Though  Time  with  petty  Fate 

Prison  us  and  Emperors, 
By  our  Arts  do  we  create 

That  which  Time  himself  devours — 
Such  machines  as  well  may  run 
'Gainst  the  horses  of  the  Sun. 
156 


A  SONG  OF  TRAVEL 

When  we  would  a  new  abode, 
Space,  our  tyrant  King  no  more, 

I^ys  the  long  lance  of  the  road 
At  our  feet  and  flees  before, 

Breathless,  ere  we  overwhelm, 

To  submit  a  further  realm! 


157 


M 


THE  TWO-SIDED  MAN 

UCH  I  owe  to  the  Land  that  grew — 

More  to  the  Life  that  fed — 
But  most  to  Allah  Who  gave  me  two 
Separate  sides  to  my  head. 


Much  I  reflect  on  the  Good  and  the  True 
In  the  Faiths  beneath  the  sun, 

But  most  upon  Allah  Who  gave  me  two 
Sides  to  my  head,  not  one. 

Wesley's  following,  Calvin's  flock, 

White  or  yellow  or  bronze. 
Shaman,  Ju-ju  or  Angekok, 

Minister,  Mukamuk,  Bonze — 

Here  is  a  health,  my  brothers,  to  you. 
However  your  prayers  are  said. 

And  praised  be  Allah  Who  gave  me  two 
Separate  sides  to  my  head! 

I  would  go  without  shirt  or  shoe, 

Friend,  tobacco  or  bread. 
Sooner  than  lose  for  a  minute  the  two 

Separate  sides  of  my  head! 

158 


'LUKANNON' 
(Song  of  the  breeding  Seal.     Aleutian  Islands) 

I  MET  my  mates  in  the  morning  (and  oh,  but  I  am 
old!) 
Where  roaring  on  the  ledges  the  summer  ground- 
swell  rolled. 
I  heard  them  lift  the  chorus  that  drowned  the  breakers' 

song — 
The  Beaches  of  Lukannon — two  million  voices  strong! 

The  song  of  pleasant  stations  beside  the  salt  lagoons, 
The  song  of  blowing  squadrons  that  shuffled  down  the 

dunes. 
The  song  of  midnight  dances  that  churned  the  sea  to 

flame — 
The  Beaches  of  Lukannon — before  the  sealers  came! 

I  met  my  mates  in  the  morning  (I'll  never  meet  them 

more !) ; 
They  came  and  went  in  legions  that  darkened  all  the 

shore. 
And  through  the  foam-flecked  offing  as  far  as  voice 

could  reach 
We  hailed  the  landing-parties  and  we  sang  them  up  the 

beach. 

159 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

The  Beaches  of  Lukannon — the  winter-wheat  so  tall — 

The  dripping,  crinkled  lichens,  and  the  sea-fog  drench- 
ing all! 

The  platforms  of  our  playground,  all  shining  smooth  and 
worn ! 

The  Beaches  of  Lukannon — the  home  where  we  were 
born ! 

I  meet  my  mates  in  the  morning,  a  broken,  scattered 

band. 
Men  shoot  us  in  the  water  and  club  us  on  the  land; 
Men  drive  us  to  the  Salt  House  like  silly  sheep  and  tame, 
And  still  we  sing  Lukannon — before  the  sealers  came. 

Wheel  down,  wheel  down  to  southward!     Oh,  Goover- 

ooska  go! 
And  tell  the  Deep-Sea  Viceroys  the  story  of  our  woe; 
Ere,  empty  as  the  shark's  egg  the  tempest  flings  ashore. 
The  Beaches  of  Lukannon  shall  know  their  sons  no  more ! 


160 


AN  ASTROLOGER'S  SONG 

TO  the  Heavens  above  us 
0  look  and  behold 
The  Planets  that  love  us 
All  harnessed  in  gold! 
What  chariots,  what  horses 

Against  us  shall  bide 
While  the  Stars  in  their  courses 
Do  fight  on  our  side? 

All  thought,  all  desires. 

That  are  under  the  sun, 
Are  one  with  their  fires. 

As  we  also  are  one. 
All  matter,  all  spirit. 

All  fashion,  all  frame, 
Receive  and  inherit 

Their  strength  from  the  same. 

Oh,  man  that  deniest 

All  power  save  thine  own, 
Their  power  in  the  highest 

Is  mightily  shown. 
Not  less  in  the  lowest 

That  power  is  made  clear. 
(Oh,  man,  if  thou  knowest, 

What  treasure  is  here!) 
161 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Earth  quakes  in  her  throes, 

And  we  wonder  for  why. 
But  the  bhnd  planet  knows 

When  her  ruler  is  nigh ; 
And,  attuned  since  Creation 

To  perfect  accord, 
She  thrills  in  her  station 

And  yearns  to  her  Lord. 


The  waters  have  risen, 

The  springs  are  unbound — 
The  floods  break  their  prison, 

And  ravin  around. 
No  rampart  withstands  'em. 

Their  fury  will  last. 
Till  the  Sign  that  commands  'em 

Sinks  low  or  swings  past. 

Through  abysses  unproven, 

O'er  gulfs  beyond  thought, 
Our  portion  is  woven, 

Our  burden  is  brought. 
Yet  They  that  prepare  it. 

Whose  Nature  we  share, 
Make  us  who  must  bear  it 

Well  able  to  bear. 


Though  terrors  o'ertake  us 

We'll  not  be  afraid. 
No  Power  can  unmake  us 

Save  that  which  has  made. 
162 


AN  ASTROLOGER'S  SONG 

Nor  yet  beyond  reason 
Or  hope  shall  we  fall — 

All  things  have  their  season, 
And  Mercy  crowns  all! 


Then,  doubt  not,  ye  fearful — 

The  Eternal  is  King — 
Up,  heart,  and  be  cheerful, 

And  lustily  sing: — 
What  chariots,  what  horses, 

Against  us  shall  bide 
While  the  Stars  in  their  courses 

Do  fight  on  our  side? 


163 


*THE  POWER  OF  THE  DOG' 

THERE  is  sorrow  enough  in  the  natural  way 
From  men  and  women  to  fill  our  day; 
But  when  we  are  certain  of  sorrow  in  store, 
Why  do  we  always  arrange  for  more  ? 
Brothers  and  Sisters,  I  bid  you  beware 
Of  giving  your  heart  to  a  dog  to  tear. 

Buy  a  pup  and  your  money  will  buy 

Love  unflinching  that  cannot  lie — 

Perfect  passion  and  worship  fed 

By  a  kick  in  the  ribs  or  a  pat  on  the  head. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  hardly  fair 

To  risk  your  heart  for  a  dog  to  tear. 

When  the  fourteen  years  which  Nature  permits 

Are  closing  in  asthma,  or  tumour,  or  fits, 

And  the  vet's  unspoken  prescription  runs 

To  lethal  chambers  or  loaded  guns, 

Then  you  will  find — it's  your  own  affair, 

But     .     .     .     you've  given  your  heart  to  a  dog  to  tear. 

When  the  body  that  lived  at  your  single  will, 
When  the  whimper  of  welcome,  is  stilled  (how  still!). 
When  the  spirit  that  answered  your  every  mood 
Is  gone — wherever  it  goes — for  good. 
You  ^^^ll  discover  how  much  you  care, 
And  will  give  your  heart  to  a  dog  to  tear. 

164 


♦THE  POWER  OF  THE  DOG' 

We've  sorrow  enough  in  the  natural  way. 

When  it  comes  to  burying  Christian  clay. 

Our  loves  are  not  given,  but  only  lent, 

AL  compound  interest  of  cent  per  cent. 

Though  it  is  not  always  the  case,  I  believe. 

That  the  longer  we've  kept  'em,  the  more  do  we  grieve 

For,  when  debts  are  payable,  right  or  wrong, 

A  short-time  loan  is  as  bad  as  a  long — 

So  why  in — Heaven  (before  we  are  there) 

Should  we  give  our  hearts  to  a  dog  to  tear  ? 


165 


THE  RABBI'S  SONG 

IF  Thought  can  reach  to  Heaven, 
On  Heaven  let  it  dwell, 
For  fear  thy  Thought  be  given 
Like  power  to  reach  to  Hell. 
For  fear  the  desolation 

And  darkness  of  thy  mind 
Perplex  an  habitation 

Which  thou  hast  left  behind. 

Let  nothing  linger  after — 

No  whimpering  ghost  remain, 
In  wall,  or  beam,  or  rafter. 

Of  any  hate  or  pain. 
Cleanse  and  call  home  thy  spirit. 

Deny  her  leave  to  cast, 
On  aught  thy  heirs  inherit, 

The  shadow  of  her  past. 

For  think,  in  all  thy  sadness. 

What  road  our  griefs  may  take; 
Whose  brain  reflect  our  madness. 

Or  whom  our  terrors  shake. 
For  think,  lest  any  languish 

By  cause  of  thy  distress — 
The  arrows  of  our  anguish 

Fly  farther  than  we  guess. 
166 


THE  RABBI'S  SONG 

Our  lives,  our  tears,  as  water, 

Are  spilled  upon  the  ground; 
God  giveth  no  man  quarter. 

Yet  God  a  means  hath  found. 
Though  faith  and  hope  have  vanished, 

And  even  love  grows  dim — 
A  means  whereby  His  banished 

Be  not  expelled  from  Him. 


167 


THE  BEE  BOY'S  SONG 

BEES!    Bees!     Hark  to  your  bees! 
'Hide  from  your  neighbours  as  much  as  you  please, 
But  all  that  has  happened,  to  us  you  must  tell, 
Or  else  we  will  give  you  no  honey  to  sell ! ' 

A  maiden  in  her  glory, 

Upon  her  wedding-day. 
Must  tell  her  Bees  the  story, 
Or  else  they'll  fly  away. 
Fly  away — die  away — 

Dwindle  down  and  leave  you! 
But  if  you  don't  deceive  your  Bees, 
Your  Bees  will  not  deceive  you. 

Marriage,  birth  or  buryin'. 

News  across  the  seas, 
All  you're  sad  or  merry  in, 
You  must  tell  the  Bees, 

Tell  'em  coming  in  an'  out, 

Where  the  Fanners  fan, 
'Cause  the  Bees  are  just  about 
As  curious  as  a  man! 

Don't  you  wait  where  trees  are, 

When  the  lightnings  play. 
Nor  don't  you  hale  where  Bees  are. 

Or  else  they'll  pme  away. 
168 


THE  BEE  BOY'S  SONG 

Pine  away — dwine  away — 

Anything  to  leave  you! 
But  if  you  never  grieve  your  Bees, 

Your  Bees  '11  never  grieve  you. 


169 


THE  RETURN  OF  THE  CHILDREN 

NEITHER  the  harps  nor  the  crowns  amused,  nor 
the  cherubs'  dove-winged  races — 
Holding  hands  forlornly  the  Children  wandered 
beneath  the  Dome, 
Plucking  the  radiant  robes  of  the  passers-by,  and  with 

pitiful  faces 
Begging  what  Princes  and  Powers  refused: — 'Ah,  please 
will  you  let  us  go  home?' 

Over  the  jewelled  floor,  nigh  weeping,  ran  to  them  Mary 

the  Mother, 
Kneeled  and  caressed  and  made  promise  with  kisses,  and 

drew  them  along  to  the  gateway — 
Yea,  the  all-iron  unbribeable  Door  which  Peter  must 

guard  and  none  other. 
Straightway  She  took  the  Keys  from  his  keeping,  and 

opened  and  freed  them  straightway. 

Then,  to  Her  Son,  Who  had  seen  and  smiled,  She  said : 

'On  the  night  that  I  bore  Thee, 
What  didst  Thou  care  for  a  love  beyond  mine  or  a 

heaven  that  was  not  my  arm? 
Didst  Thou  push  from  the  nipple,  0  Child,  to  hear  the 

angels  adore  Thee? 
When  we  two  lay  in  the  breath  of  the  kine?'     And  He 

said: — 'Thou  hast  done  no  harm.' 

170 


THE  RETURN  OF  THE  CHILDREN 

So  through  the  Void  the  Children  ran  homeward  merrily 

hand  in  hand, 
Looking  neither  to  left  nor  right  where  the  breathless 

Heavens  stood  still; 
And  the  Guards  of  the  Void  resheathed  their  swords,  for 

they  heard  the  Command: 
*  Shall  I  that  have  suffered  the  children  to  come  to  Me 

hold  them  against  their  will?' 


171 


MERROW  DOWN 
I 

HERE  runs  a  road  by  Merrow  Down- 
A  grassy  track  to-day  it  is — 
An  hour  out  of  Guildford  town, 
Above  the  river  Wey  it  is. 


Here,  when  they  heard  the  horse-bells  ring, 
The  ancient  Britons  dressed  and  rode 

To  watch  the  dark  Phoenicians  bring 
Their  goods  along  the  Western  Road. 

Yes,  here,  or  hereabouts,  they  met 
To  hold  their  racial  talks  and  such — 

To  barter  beads  for  Whitby  jet, 

And  tin  for  gay  shell  torques  and  such. 

But  long  and  long  before  that  time 

(When  bison  used  to  roam  on  it) 
Did  Taffy  and  her  Daddy  climb 

That  Down,  and  had  their  home  on  it. 

Then  beavers  built  in  BroadsLonebrook 

And  made  a  swamp  where  Bramley  stands; 

And  bears  from  Shere  would  come  and  look 
For  Taffimai  where  Shamley  stands. 
172 


MERROW  DOWN 

The  Wey,  that  Taffy  called  Wagai, 
Was  more  than  six  times  bigger  then; 

And  all  the  Tribe  of  Tegumai 
They  cut  a  noble  figure  then ! 


II 

Of  all  the  Tribe  of  Tegumai 

Who  cut  that  figure,  none  remain, — 
On  Merrow  Down  the  cuckoos  cry — 

The  silence  and  the  sun  remain. 

But  as  the  faithful  years  return 
And  hearts  unwounded  sing  again, 

Comes  Taffy  dancing  through  the  fern 
To  lead  the  Surrey  spring  again. 

Her  brows  are  bound  with  bracken-fronds. 
And  golden  elf-locks  fly  above; 

Her  eyes  are  bright  as  diamonds 
And  bluer  than  the  sky  above. 

In  mocassins  and  deer-skin  cloak, 
Unfearing,  free  and  fair  she  flits. 

And  Hghts  her  little  damp-wood  smoke 
To  show  her  Daddy  where  she  flits. 

For  far — oh,  very  far  behind. 

So  far  she  cannot  call  to  him, 
Comes  Tegumai  alone  to  find 

The  daughter  that  was  all  to  him. 


173 


THE  LOOKING-GLASS 

(A  Country  Dance) 

QUEEN  Bess  was  Harry's  daughter.     Stand  for- 
ward partners  all! 
>^In  ruff  and  stomacher  and  gown 
She  danced  King  Philip  down-a  down, 
And  left  her  shoe  to  show  'twas  true — 

(The  very  tune  I'm  playing  you) 
In  Norgem  at  Brickwall! 

The  Queen  was  in  her  chamber,  and  she  was  middhng  old, 
Her  petticoat  was  satin,  and  her  stomacher  was  gold. 
Backwards  and  forwards  and  sideways  did  she  pass, 
Making  up  her  mind  to  face  the  cruel  looking-glass. 
The  cruel  looking-glass  that  will  never  show  a  lass 
As  comely  or  as  kindly  or  as  young  as  what  she  was! 

Queen  Bess  was  Harry's  daughter.     Now  hand  your 
partners  all! 

The  Queen  was  in  her  chamber,  a-combing  of  her  hair. 
There  came  Queen  Mary's  spirit  and  It  stood  behind 

her  chair, 
Singing  'Backwards  and  forwards  and  sideways  may 

you  pass. 
But  I  will  stand  behind  you  till  you  face  the  looking-glass. 
The  cruel  looking-glass  that  will  never  show  a  lass 
As  lovely  or  unlucky  or  as  lonely  as  I  was!' 

174 


THE  LOOKING-GLASS 

Queen  Bess  was  Harry's  daughter.     Now  turn  your 
partners  all! 

The  Queen  was  in  her  chamber,  a-weeping  very  sore. 
There  came  Lord  Leicester's  spirit  and  It  scratched  upon 

the  door, 
Singing  'Backwards  and  forwards  and  sideways  may 

you  pass, 
But  I  will  walk  beside  you  till  you  face  the  looking-glass. 
The  cruel  looking-glass  that  will  never  show  a  lass, 
As  hard  and  unforgiving  or  as  wicked  as  you  was!' 

Queen  Bess  was  Harry's  daughter.     Now  kiss  your 
partners  all! 

The  Queen  was  in  her  chamber,  her  sins  were  on  her 

head. 
She  looked  the  spirits  up  and  down  and  statehly  she 

said: — 
'Backwards  and  forwards  and  sideways  though  I've 

been, 
Yet  I  am  Harry's  daughter  and  I  am  England's  Queen!' 
And  she  faced  the  looking-glass  (and  whatever  else 

there  was), 
And  she  saw  her  day  was  over  and  she  saw  her  beauty 

pass 
In  the  cruel  looking-glass,  that  can  always  hurt  a  lass 
More  hard  than  any  ghost  there  is  or  any  man  there 
was! 


175 


THE  QUEEN'S  MEN 

VALOUR  and  Innocence 
Have  latterly  gone  hence 
To  certain  death  by  certain  shame  attended. 
Envy — ah!  even  to  tears! — 
The  fortune  of  their  years 
Which,  though  so  few,  yet  so  divinely  ended. 

Scarce  had  they  lifted  up 

Life's  full  and  fiery  cup, 

Than  they  had  set  it  down  untouched  before  Lhem. 

Before  their  day  arose 

They  beckoned  it  to  close — 

Close  in  confusion  and  destruction  o'er  them. 

They  did  not  stay  to  ask 

What  prize  should  crown  their  task, 

Well  sure  that  prize  was  such  as  no  man  strives  for; 

But  passed  into  eclipse, 

Her  kiss  upon  their  lips — 

Even  Belphoebe's,  whom  they  gave  their  lives  for! 


176 


THE  BELLS  AND  THE  QUEEN,  1911 

'  /^^\  AY  go  up  and  gay  go  down 
I      Y   To  ring  the  Bells  of  London  Town.* 
V--^    When  London  Town's  asleep  in  bed 
You'll  hear  the  Bells  ring  overhead. 
In  excelsis  gloria! 
Ringing  for  Victoria, 
Ringing  for  their  mighty  mistress — ten  years  dead ! 


Here  is  more  gain  than  Gloriana  guessed. 

Than  Gloriana  guessed  or  Indies  bring — 
Than  golden  Indies  bring.     A  Queen  confessed, 

A  Queen  confessed  that  crowned  her  people  King. 
Her  people  King,  and  crowned  all  Kings  above. 

Above  all  Kings  have  crowned  their  Queen    \.\\<'\v 
love — 
Have  crowned  their  love  their  Queen,  their  Queen  their 
love ! 


Denying  her,  we  do  ourselves  deny, 

Disowning  her  are  we  ourselves  disowned. 

Mirror  was  she  of  our  fidelity, 

And  handmaid  of  our  destiny  enthroned; 

The  very  marrow  of  Youth's  dream,  and  still 

Yoke-mate  of  wisest  Age  that  worked  her  will ! 

177 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Our  fathers  had  declared  to  us  her  praise. 

Her  praise  the  years  had  proven  past  all  speech, 
And  past  all  speech  our  loyal  hearts  always, 

Always  our  hearts  lay  open,  each  to  each; 
Therefore  men  gave  their  treasure  and  their  blood 
To  this  one  woman — for  she  understood! 

Four  o'  the  clock!     Now  all  the  world  is  still. 
Oh,  London  Bells,  to  all  the  world  declare 
The  Secret  of  the  Empire — read  who  will! 
The  Glory  of  the  People — touch  who  dare! 

The  Bells: 

Power  that  has  reached  itself  all  kingly  powers, 
St.  Margaret's:     By  love  o'erpowered — 
St.  Martin's:     By  love  o'erpowered — 
St.  Clement  Danes:     By  love  o'erpowered. 

The  greater  power  confers! 

The  Bells: 

For  we  were  hers,  as  she,  as  she  was  ours, 
Bow  Bells:     And  she  was  ours — 
St.  Paul's:     And  she  was  ours — 
Westminster:     And  she  was  ours, 

As  we,  even  we,  were  hers ! 

The  Bells: 

As  we  were  hers! 


178 


THE  CITY  OF  SLEEP 

OVER  the  edge  of  the  purple  down. 
Where  the  single  lamplight  gleams, 
Know  ye  the  road  to  the  Merciful  Town 
That  is  hard  by  the  Sea  of  Dreams — 
Where  the  poor  may  lay  their  wrongs  away, 

And  the  sick  may  forget  to  weep? 
But  we — pity  us!     Oh,  pity  us! 

We  wakeful;  ah,  pity  us! — 
We  must  go  back  with  Policeman  Day — 
Back  from  the  City  of  Sleep ! 

Weary  they  turn  from  the  scroll  and  crown, 

Fetter  and  prayer  and  plough — 
They  that  go  up  to  the  Merciful  Town, 

For  her  gates  are  closing  now. 
It  is  their  right  in  the  Baths  of  Night 

Body  and  soul  to  steep. 
But  we — pity  us!  ah,  pity  us! 

W^e  wakeful;  oh,  pity  us! — 
We  must  go  back  with  Policeman  Day — 

Back  from  the  City  of  Sleep! 

Over  the  edge  of  the  purple  down, 

Ere  the  tender  dreams  begin, 
Look — we  may  look — at  the  Merciful  Town, 

But  we  may  not  enter  in! 

179 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Outcasts  all,  from  her  guarded  wall 
Back  to  our  watch  we  creep : 

We — pity  us!  ah,  pity  us! 
We  wakeful;  oh,  pity  us! — 

We  that  go  back  with  Policeman  Day- 
Back  from  the  City  of  Sleep! 


180 


THE  WIDOWER 

FOR  a  season  there  must  be  pain — 
For  a  little,  little  space 
I  shall  lose  the  sight  of  her  face, 
Take  back  the  old  Ufe  again 
While  She  is  at  rest  in  her  place. 

For  a  season  this  pain  must  endure. 
For  a  little,  little  while 
I  shall  sigh  more  often  than  smile 
Till  Time  shall  work  me  a  cure, 
And  the  pitiful  days  beguile. 

For  that  season  we  must  be  apart, 
For  a  little  length  of  years, 
Till  my  life's  last  hour  nears. 
And,  above  the  beat  of  my  heart, 
I  hear  Her  voice  in  my  ears. 

But  I  shall  not  understand — 

Being  set  on  some  later  love, 

Shall  not  know  her  for  whom  I  strove, 

Till  she  reach  me  forth  her  hand 

Saying  '  Who  but  I  have  the  right? ' 

And  out  of  a  troubled  night 

Shall  draw  me  safe  to  the  land. 


181 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

Just  So  Stories 

WHEN  the  cabin  port-holes  are  dark  and  green 
Because  of  the  seas  outside; 
When  the  ship  goes  wop  (with  a  wiggle  between) 
And  the  steward  falls  into  the  soup-tureen, 

And  the  trunks  begin  to  shde; 
When  Nursey  lies  on  the  floor  in  a  heap, 
And  Mummy  tells  you  to  let  her  sleep, 
And  you  aren't  waked  or  washed  or  dressed, 
Why,  then  you  will  know  (if  you  haven't  guessed) 
You're  'Fifty  North  and  Forty  West!' 

'How  the  Whale  got  his  Throat.' 

The  Camel's  hump  is  an  ugly  lump 
Which  well  you  may  see  at  the  Zoo; 

But  uglier  yet  is  the  hump  we  get 
From  having  too  little  to  do. 

Kiddies  and  grown-ups  too-oo-oo, 
If  we  haven't  enough  to  do-oo-oo. 

We  get  the  hump — 

Cameelious  hump — 
The  hump  that  is  black  and  blue! 

We  climb  out  of  bed  with  a  frouzly  head 
And  a  snarly-yarly  voice. 

182 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

We  shiver  and  scowl  and  we  grunt  and  we  growl 
At  our  bath  and  our  boots  and  our  toys; 

And  there  ought  to  be  a  corner  for  me 
(And  I  know  there  is  one  for  you) 

When  we  get  the  hump — 

Cameelious  hump — 
The  hump  that  is  black  and  blue! 

The  cure  for  this  ill  is  not  to  sit  still, 

Or  frowst  with  a  book  by  the  fire; 
But  to  take  a  large  hoe  and  a  shovel  also, 

And  dig  till  you  gently  perspire; 

And  then  you  will  fmd  that  the  sun  and  the  wind, 
And  the  Djinn  of  the  Garden  too, 

Have  lifted  the  hump — 

The  horrible  hump — 
The  hump  that  is  black  and  blue! 

I  get  it  as  well  as  you-oo-oo — 
If  I  haven't  enough  to  do-oo-oo! 

We  all  get  hump — 

Cameehous  hump — 
Kiddies  and  grown-ups  too! 

*How  the  Camel  got  his  Hump.' 

I  am  the  Most  Wise  Baviaan,  saying  in  most  wise  tones, 

'Let  us  melt  into  the  landscape — ^just  us  two  by  our 
lones.' 

People  have  come — in  a  carriage — calling.  But  Mum- 
my is  there.     .     .     . 

Yes,  I  can  go  if  you  take  me — ^Nurse  says  she  don't  care. 

183 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Let's  go  up  to  the  pig-styes  and  sit  on  the  farmyard  rails ! 
Let's  say  things  to  the  bunnies,  and  watch  'em  skitter 

their  tails! 
Let's — oh,  anything,  daddy,  so  long  as  it's  you  and  me, 
And  going  truly  exploring,  and  not  being  in  till  tea! 
Here's  your  boots  (I've  brought  'em),  and  here's  your 

cap  and  stick, 
And  here's  your  pipe  and  tobacco.     Oh,  come  along  out 

of  it — quick! 

'How  the  Leopard  got  his  Spots.' 

I  keep  six  honest  serving-men 

(They  taught  me  all  I  knew) ; 
Their  names  are  What  and  Why  and  When 

And  How  and  Where  and  Who. 
I  send  them  over  land  and  sea, 

I  send  them  east  and  west; 
But  after  they  have  worked  for  me, 

I  give  them  all  a  rest. 

I  let  them  rest  from  nine  till  five, 

For  I  am  busy  then. 
As  well  as  breakfast,  lunch,  and  tea, 

For  they  are  hungry  men. 
But  dilTerent  folk  have  difTerent  views; 

I  know  a  person  small — 
She  keeps  ten  million  serving-men, 

Who  get  no  rest  at  all ! 
She  sends  'em  abroad  on  her  own  affairs, 

From  the  second  she  opens  her  eyes — 
One  million  Hows,  two  million  Wheres, 

And  seven  million  Whys! 

'The  Elephant's  Child.' 
184 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

This  is  the  mouth-filling  song  of  the  race  that  was  run 

by  a  Boomer. 
Run  in  a  single  burst — only  event  of  its  kind — 
Started  by  Big  God  Nqong  from  Warrigaborrigarooma, 
Old  Man  Kangaroo  first,  Yellow-Dog  Dingo  behind. 

Kangaroo  bounded  away,  his  back-legs  working  like 
pistons — 

Bounded  from  morning  till  dark,  twenty-five  feet  at  a 
bound. 

Yellow-Dog  Dingo  lay  like  a  yellow  cloud  in  the  dis- 
tance— 

Much  too  busy  to  bark.  My!  but  they  covered  the 
ground ! 

Nobody  knows  where  they  went,  or  followed  the  track 

that  they  flew  in. 
For  that  Continent  hadn't  been  given  a  name. 
They  ran  thirty  degrees,  from  Torres  Straits  to  the 

Leeuwin 
(Look  at  the  Atlas,  please),  then  they  ran  back  as  they 

came. 

S 'posing  you  could  trot  from  Adelaide  to  the  Pacific, 
For  an  afternoon's  run — half  what  these  gentlemen  did — 
You  would  feel  rather  hot,  but  your  legs  would  develop 

terrific — 
Yes,  my  importunate  son,  you'd  be  a  Marvellous  Kid! 
'The  Sing-Song  of  Old  Man  Kangaroo.' 

I've  never  sailed  the  Amazon, 

I've  never  reached  Brazil; 
But  the  *Don'  and  'Magdalena,' 

They  can  go  there  when  they  will! 
183 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Yes,  weekly  from  Southampton, 
Great  steamers,  white  and  gold, 
Go  rolling  down  to  Rio 
(Roll  down — roll  down  to  Rio!) 
And  I'd  like  to  roll  to  Rio 
Some  day  before  I'm  old! 

I've  never  seen  a  Jaguar, 

Nor  yet  an  Armadill — 
O  dilloing  in  his  armour. 

And  I  s'pose  I  never  will, 

Unless  I  go  to  Rio 

These  wonders  to  behold — 

Roll  down — roll  down  to  Rio — 

Roll  really  down  to  Rio ! 

Oh,  I'd  love  to  roll  to  Rio 

Some  day  before  I'm  old! 

'The  Beginning  of  the  Armadilloes.' 

China-going  P.  and  O.'s 
Pass  Pau  Amma's  playground  close, 
And  his  Pusat  Tasek  lies 
Near  the  track  of  most  B.  I.'s. 
N.  Y.  K.  and  N.  D.  L. 
Know  Pau  Amma's  home  as  well 
As  the  Fisher  of  the  Sea  knows 
*Bens,'  M.  M.'s,  and  Rubattinos. 
But  (and  this  is  rather  queer) 
A.  T.  L.'s  can  not  come  here; 
0.  and  0.  and  D.  0.  A. 
Must  go  round  another  way. 
Orient,  Anchor,  Bibby,  Hall, 
Never  go  that  way  at  all. 
186 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

U.  C.  S  would  have  a  fit 

If  it  found  itself  on  it. 

And  if  'Beavers'  took  their  cargoes 

To  Penang  instead  of  Lagos, 

Or  a  fat  Shaw-Savill  bore 

Passengers  to  Singapore, 

Or  a  White  Star  were  to  try  a 

Little  trip  to  Sourabaya, 

Or  a  B.  S.  A.  went  on 

Past  Natal  to  Cheribon, 

Then  great  Mr.  Lloyds  would  come 

With  a  wire  and  drag  them  home! 

You'll  know  what  my  riddle  means 
When  you've  eaten  mangosteens. 

'The  Crab  that  Played  with  the  Sea.' 


Pussy  can  sit  by  the  fire  and  sing, 

Pussy  can  climb  a  tree. 
Or  play  with  a  silly  old  cork  and  string 

To  'muse  herself,  not  me. 
But  I  like  Binkie  my  dog,  because 

He  knows  how  to  behave; 
So,  Binkie's  the  same  as  the  First  Friend  was. 

And  I  am  the  Man  in  the  Cave! 


Pussy  will  play  man-Friday  till 

It's  time  to  wet  her  paw 
And  make  her  walk  on  the  window-sill 

(For  the  footprint  Crusoe  saw) ; 
187 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Then  she  flufiles  her  tail  and  mews, 

And  scratches  and  won't  attend. 
But  Binkie  will  play  whatever  I  choose, 

And  he  is  my  true  First  Friend! 

Pussy  will  rub  my  knees  with  her  head 

Pretending  she  loves  me  hard; 
But  the  very  minute  I  go  to  my  bed 

Pussy  runs  out  in  the  yard, 
And  there  she  stays  till  the  morning-light; 

So  I  know  it  is  only  pretend; 
But  Binkie,  he  snores  at  my  feet  all  night, 

And  he  is  my  Firstest  Friend ! 

'The  Cat  that  Walked  by  Himself.' 

There  was  never  a  Queen  like  Balkis, 
From  here  to  the  wide  world's  end; 

But  Balkis  talked  to  a  butterfly 
As  you  would  talk  to  a  friend. 

There  was  never  a  King  like  Solomon, 

Not  since  the  world  began; 
But  Solomon  talked  to  a  butterfly 

As  a  man  would  talk  to  a  man. 

She  was  Queen  of  Sabaea — 

And  he  was  Asia's  Lord — 
But  they  both  of  'em  talked  to  butterflies 

When  they  took  their  walks  abroad! 

'The  Butterfly  that  Stamped.' 


188 


THE  PRAYER  OF  MIRIAM  COHEN 


F 


ROM  the  wheel  and  the  drift  of  Things 
DeUver  us,  Good  Lord, 
And  we  will  face  the  wrath  of  Kings, 
The  faggot  and  the  sword ! 


Lay  not  Thy  Works  before  our  eyes, 

Nor  vex  us  with  Thy  Wars, 
Lest  we  should  feel  the  straining  skies 

O'ertrod  by  trampling  stars. 

Hold  us  secure  behind  the  gates 

Of  saving  flesh  and  bone, 
Lest  we  should  dream  what  dream  awaits 

The  soul  escaped  alone. 

Thy  Path,  Thy  Purposes  conceal 
From  our  beleaguered  realm. 

Lest  any  shattering  whisper  steal 
Upon  us  and  o'erwhelm. 

A  veil  'twixt  us  and  Thee,  Good  Lord, 

A  veil  'twixt  us  and  Thee, 
Lest  we  should  hear  too  clear,  too  clear, 

And  unto  madness  see! 


189 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  LITTLE  HUNTER 

ERE  Mor  the  Peacock  flutters,  ere  the  Monkey 
People  cry, 
Ere  Chil  the  Kite  swoops  down  a  furlong  sheer, 
Through  the  Jungle  very  softly  flits  a  shadow  and  a 
sigh- 
He  is  Fear,  0  Little  Hunter,  he  is  Fear! 
Very  softly  down  the  glade  runs  a  waiting,  watching 
shade. 
And  the  whisper  spreads  and  widens  far  and  near. 
And  the  sweat  is  on  thy  brow,  for  he  passes  even  now — 
He  is  Fear,  O  Little  Hunter,  he  is  Fear! 


Ere  the  moon  has  climbed  the  mountain,  ere  the  rocks 
are  ribbed  with  light, 
When   the   downward-dipping  trails   are  dank  and 
drear. 
Comes  a  breathing  hard  behind  thee— snuffle-snufHe 
through  the  night — 
It  is  Fear,  0  Little  Hunter,  it  is  Fear! 
On  thy  knees  and  draw  the  bow;  bid  the  shriUing  arrow 
go; 
In  the  empty,  mocking  thicket  plunge  the  spear! 
But  thy  hands  arc  loosed  and  weak,  and  the  blood  has 
left  thy  cheek — 
It  is  Fear,  0  Little  Hunter,  it  is  Fear! 

190 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  LITTLE  HUNTER 

When   the  heat-cloud   sucks   the  tempest,   when   the 
shvered  pine-trees  fall, 
When  the  blinding,  blaring  rain-squalls  lash  and  veer. 
Through  the  war-gongs  of  the  thunder  rings  a  voice 
more  loud  than  all — 
It  is  Fear,  0  Little  Hunter,  it  is  Fear! 
Now  the  spates  are  banked  and  deep;  now  the  footless 
boulders  leap — 
Now  the  lightning  shows  each  littlest  leaf-rib  clear — 
But  thy  throat  is  shut  and  dried,  and  thy  heart  against 
thy  side 
Hammers:     Fear,  0  Little  Hunter — ^this  is  Fear! 


191 


GOW'S  WATCH 
Act  II.     Scene  2. 

The  pavilion  in  the  Gardens.     Enter  Ferdinand  and  the 

King. 

FERDINAND.     Your  tiercel's  too  long  at  hack, 
Sir.     He's  no  eyass 
But  a  passage-hawk  that  footed  ere  we  caught  him, 
Dangerously  free  o '  the  air.     Faith  were  he  mine 
(As  mine's  the  glove  he  binds  to  for  his  tirings) 
I'd  fly  him  with  a  make-hawk.     He's  in  yarak 
Plumed  to  the  very  point.     So  manned  so  weathered! 
Give  him  the  firmament  God  made  him  for 
And  what  shall  take  the  air  of  him? 

The  I'Cing.     A  young  wing  yet 
Bold — overbold  on  the  perch,  but  think  you,  Ferdinand, 
He  can  endure  the  tall  skies  yonder?     Cozen 
Advantage  out  of  the  teeth  of  the  hurricane? 
Choose  his  own  mate  against  the  lammer-geier? 
Ride  out  a  night-long  tempest,  hold  his  pitch 
Between  the  lightning  and  the  cloud  it  leaps  from, 
Never  too  pressed  to  kill? 

Ferdinand.     I'll  answer  for  him. 
Bating  all  parable,  I  know  the  Prince. 
There's  a  bleak  devil  in  the  young,  my  Lord, 

192 


GOW'S  WATCH 

God  put  it  there  to  save  'em  from  their  elders 

And  break  their  father's  heart,  but  bear  them  scatheless 

Through  mire  and  thorns  and  blood  if  need  be.     Think 

What  our  prime  saw!     Such  glory,  such  achievements 

As  now  our  children  wondering  at,  examine 

Themselves  to  see  if  they  shall  hardly  equal. 

But  what  cared  we  while  we  wrought  the  wonders? 

Nothing! 
The  rampant  deed  contented. 

The  King.     Little  enough,  God  knows!     But  after- 
wards?    After — 
There  comes  the  reckoning.     I  would  save  him  that. 

Ferdinand.     Save  him  dry  scars  that  ache  of  winter- 
nights, 
Worn  out  self-pity  and  as  much  of  knowledge 
As  makes  old  men  fear  judgment?     Then  loose  him — 

loose  him — 
A'  God's  name  loose  him  to  adventure  early! 
And  trust  some  random  pike,  or  half-backed  horse. 
Besides  what's  caught  in  Italy,  to  save  him. 

The   King.     I   know.     I   know.     And  yet.     .     .     . 
What  stirs  in  the  garden? 

Enter  Gow  and  a  Gardener  bearing  the  Prince's  body. 

Ferdinand.     (Gods  give  me  patience!)     Gow  and  a 
gardener 
Bearing  some  load  along  in  the  dusk  to  the  dunghill. 
Nay — a  dead  branch —     But  as  I  said,  the  Prince — 

The    King.     They've    set    it    down.     Strange   they 
should  work  so  late. 

193 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Gow  (setting  down  the  body).  Heark,  you  unsanc- 
tified  fool  while  I  set  out  our  story.  We  found  it,  this 
side  the  North  Park  wall  which  it  had  climbed  to  pluck 
nectarines  from  the  alley.  Heark  again!  There  was  a 
nectarine  in  its  hand  when  we  found  it,  and  the  naughty 
brick  that  slipped  from  the  coping  beneath  its  foot  and 
so  caused  its  death,  lies  now  under  the  wall  for  the  King 
to  see. 

The  King  (above).     The  King  to  see!     Why  should 
he?     Who's  the  man? 

Gow.  That  is  your  tale.  Swerve  from  it  by  so  much 
as  the  breadth  of  my  dagger  and  here's  your  instant  re- 
ward. You  heard  not,  saw  not,  and  by  the  Horns  of 
ninefold-cuckolded  Jupiter  you  thought  not  nor  dreamed 
not  anything  more  or  other! 

The  King.     Ninefold-cuckolded  Jupiter.     That's  a 
rare  oath!     Shall  we  look  closer? 

Ferdinand.     Not  yet,  my  Lord!     (I  cannot  hear  him 
breathe.) 

Gardener.  The  North  Park  wall?  It  was  so.  Pluck- 
ing nectarines.  It  shall  be.  But  how  shall  I  say  if  any 
ask  why  our  Lady  the  Queen — 

Gow  (stabs  him).  Thus!  Hie  after  the  Prince  and 
tell  him  y'are  the  first  fruits  of  his  nectarine  tree.  Bleed 
there  behind  the  laurels. 

The  King.     Why  did  Gow  buffet  the  clown?     What 
said  he?     I'll  go  look. 

Ferdinand  (above).     Save  yourself!     It  is  the  King! 

Enter  the  King  and  Ferdinand  to  Gow. 
194 


GOW'S  WATCH 
Gow.  God  save  you!     This  was  the  Prince! 

The  King.     The  Prince !     Not  a  dead  branch?     (Un- 
covers the  face.) 
My  flesh  and  blood!     My  son!  my  son!  my  son! 

Ferdinand  (to  Gow).     I  had  feared  something  of  this. 
And  that  fool  yonder? 

Gow.     Dead,  or  as  good.     He  cannot  speak. 

Ferdinand.  Better  so. 

The  King.   '  Loosed  to  adventure  early ! '  Tell  the  tale. 

Gow.  Saddest  truth  alack!  I  came  upon  him  not  a 
half  hour  since,  fallen  from  the  North  Park  wall  over 
against  the  Deer-park  side — dead — dead! — a  nectarine 
in  his  hand  that  the  dear  lad  must  have  climbed  for,  and 
plucked  the  very  instant,  look  you,  that  a  brick  slipped 
on  the  coping.  'Tis  there  now.  So  I  lifted  him,  but 
his  neck  was  as  you  see — and  already  cold. 

The  King.  Oh,  very  cold.  But  why  should  he  have 
troubled  to  climb?  He  was  free  of  all  the  fruit  in  my 
garden,  God  knows!     .     .     .     What,  Gow? 

Gow.     Surely,  God  knows! 

The  King.  A  lad's  trick.  But  I  love  him  the  better 
for  it.  .  .  .  True,  he's  past  loving.  .  .  .  And 
now  we  must  tell  our  Queen.  What  a  coil  at  the  day's 
end!  She'll  grieve  for  him.  Not  as  I  shall,  Ferdinand, 
but  as  youth  for  youth.  They  were  much  of  the  same 
age.  Playmate  for  playmate.  See,  he  wears  her  col- 
ours. That  is  the  knot  she  gave  him  last — last  .  .  . 
Oh  God!     When  was  yesterday? 

Ferdinand.     Come  in!     Come  in,  my  Lord.     There's 
a  dew  falling. 

195 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

The  King.     He'll  take  no  horm   of  it.     Til  follow 

presently.     .     .     . 
He's  all  his  mother's  now  and  none  of  mine — 
Her  very  face  on  the  bride-pillow.     Yet  I  tricked  her. 
But  that  was  later — and  she  never  guessed. 
I  do  not  think  he  sinned  much — he's  too  young — 
Much  the  same  age  as  my  Queen.     God  must  not  judge 

him 
Too  hardly  for  such  slips  as  youth  may  fall  in. 
But  I'll  entreat  that  Throne. 
(Prays  by  the  body.) 

Gow.  The  Heavens  hold  up  still.  Earth  opens  not 
and  this  dew's  mere  water.  What  shall  a  man  think  of 
it  all?  (To  Gardener.)  Not  dead  yet,  sirrah?  I  bade 
you  follow  the  Prince.     Despatch! 

Gardener.  Some  kind  soul  pluck  out  the  dagger. 
Why  did  you  slay  me?  I'd  done  no  wrong.  I'd  ha' 
kept  it  secret  till  my  dying  day.  But  not  now — not 
now!  I'm  dying.  The  Prince  fell  from  the  Queen's 
chamber  window.     I  saw  it  in  the  nut  alley.     He  w^as — 

Ferdinand.  But  what  made  you  in  the  nut  alley  a  I 
that  hour? 

Gardener.  No  wrong.  No  more  than  another  man's 
wife.  Jocasta  of  the  still-room.  She'd  kissed  me  good- 
night too;  but  that's  over  with  the  rest.  .  .  .  I've 
stumbled  on  the  Prince's  beastly  loves,  and  I  pay  for  all. 
Let  me  pass! 

Gow.  Count  it  your  fortune,  honest  man.  You 
would  have  revealed  it  to  your  woman  at  the  next  meet- 
ing. You  flesh-mongers  are  all  one  feather.  (Plucks 
out  the  dagger.) 

19G 


GOW'S  WATCH 

Go  in  peace  and  lay  your  death  to  Fortune's  door, 
lie's  sped — thank  Fortune! 

Ferdinand.     Who   knows  not  Fortune,   glutted   on 
easy  thrones, 
Stealing  from  feasts  as  rare  to  coney-catch 
Privily  in  the  hedgerows  for  a  clown, 
With  that  same  cruel-lustful  hand  and  eye, 
Those  nails  and  wedges,  that  one  hammer  and  lead, 
And  the  very  gerb  of  long-stored  lightning  loosed 
Yesterday  'gainst  some  King. 

The  King.     I  have  pursued  with  prayers  where  my 
heart  warns  me 
My  soul  shall  overtake — 

Enter  the  Queen. 

The  King.     Look  not!     Wait  till  I  tell  you,  dearest. 
.     .     .     Air!     .     .     . 
'Loosed  to  adventure  early' 
.     .     .     I  go  late.     (Dies.) 

Gow.  So !  God  hath  cut  off  the  Prince  in  his  pleas- 
ures. Gow,  to  save  the  King,  hath  silenced  one  poor 
fool  who  knew  how  it  befell,  and  now  the  King's  dead, 
needs  only  that  the  Queen  should  kill  Gow  and  all's  safe 
for  her  this  side  o'  the  Judgment.  .  .  .  Senor  Fer- 
dinand, the  wind's  easterly.     I'm  for  the  road. 

Ferdinand.     My  horse  is  at  the  gate.     God  speed 
you.     Whither? 

Gow.  To  the  Duke,  if  the  Queen  does  not  lay  hands 
on  me  before.  However  it  goes,  I  charge  you  bear  wit- 
ness, Senor  Ferdinand,  I  served  the  old  King  faithfully. 
To  the  death,  Senor  Ferdinand — to  the  death! 

197 


THE  WISHING  GAPS 

LIFE'S  all  getting  and  giving. 
I've  only  myself  to  give. 
-'  What  shall  I  do  for  a  living? 
I've  only  one  life  to  live. 
End  it?     I'll  not  find  another. 
Spend  it?     But  how  shall  I  best? 
Sure  the  wise  plan  is  to  live  hke  a  man. 
And  Luck  may  look  after  the  rest! 
Largesse!  Largesse,  Fortune! 
Give  or  hold  at  your  will. 
If  I've  no  care  for  Fortune 
Fortune  must  follow  me  still. 


Bad  Luck,  she  is  never  a  lady 

But  the  commonest  wench  on  the  street, 

Shuffling,  shabby  and  shady, 

Shameless  to  pass  or  meet. 

Walk  with  her  once — it's  a  weakness! 

Talk  to  her  twice — it's  a  crime! 

Thrust  her  away  when  she  gives  you  'good  day 

And  the  besom  won't  board  you  next  time. 

Largesse!     Largesse,  Fortune! 

What  is  Your  Ladyship's  mood? 

If  I've  no  care  for  Fortune, 

My  Fortune  is  bound  to  be  good! 

198 


THE  WISHING  GAPS 

Good  Luck  she  is  never  a  lady 

But  the  cursedest  quean  aUve! 

Tricksey,  wincing  and  jady, 

Kittle  to  lead  or  drive. 

Greet  her — she's  hailing  a  stranger! 

Meet  her — she's  busking  to  leave. 

Let  her  alone  for  a  shrew  to  the  bone, 

And  the  hussy  comes  plucking  your  sleeve! 

Largesse!  Largesse,  Fortune! 

I'll  neither  follow  nor  flee. 

If  I  don't  run  after  Fortune 

Fortune  must  run  after  me ! 


199 


*BY  THE  HOOF  OF  THE  WILD  GOAT 

BY  the  Hoof  of  the  Wild  Goat  uptossed 
From  the  chff  where  she  lay  in  the  Sun, 
Fell  the  Stone 
To  the  Tarn  where  the  daylight  is  lost; 
So  she  fell  from  the  light  of  the  Sun, 
And  alone! 

Now  the  fall  was  ordained  from  the  first. 
With  the  Goat  and  the  Cliff  and  the  Tarn, 

But  the  Stone 
Knows  only  her  life  is  accursed, 
As  she  sinks  from  the  light  of  the  Sun, 

And  alone! 

Oh  Thou  Who  hast  builded  the  World! 
Oh  Thou  Who  hast  hghted  the  Sun! 
Oh  Thou  Who  hast  darkened  the  Tarn! 

Judge  Thou 
The  sin  of  the  Stone  that  was  hurled 
By  the  goat  from  the  hght  of  the  Sun, 
As  she  sinks  in  the  mire  of  the  Tarn, 

Even  now — even  now — even  now! 


200 


THE  DAWN  WIND 

AT  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  if  you  open  your 
/-A  window  and  listen, 

^     *-    You  will  hear  the  feet  of  the  Wind  that  is  going 

to  call  the  sun. 
And  the  trees  in  the  shadow  rustle  and  the  trees  in  the 
moonlight  glisten, 
And  though  it  is  deep,  dark  night,  you  feel  that  the 
night  is  done. 

So  do  the  cows  in  the  field.     They  graze  for  an  hour  and 
lie  down, 
Dozing  and  chewing  the  cud;  or  a  bird  in  the  ivy 
wakes, 
Chirrups  one  note  and  is  still,  and  the  restless  Wind 
strays  on, 
Fidgeting  far  down  the  road,  till,  softly,  the  darkness 
breaks. 

Back  comes  the  Wind  full  strength  with  a  blow  like  an 
angel's  wing. 
Gentle  but  waking  the  world,  as  he  shouts:  'The  Sun! 
The  Sun!' 
And  the  light  floods  over  the  fields  and  the  birds  begin  to 
sing, 
And  the  Wind  dies  down  in  the  grass.     It  is  Day  and 
his  work  is  done. 

201 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

So  when  the  world  is  asleep,  and  there  seems  no  hope  of 
her  waking 
Out  of  some  long,  bad  dream  that  makes  her  mutter 
and  moan, 
Suddenly,  all  men  arise  to  the  noise  of  fetters  breaking, 
And  every  one  smiles  at  his  neighbour  and  tells  him 
his  soul  is  his  own! 


202 


SONG  OF  THE  RED  WAR-BOAT 
(A.D.  683) 

SHOVE  off  from  the  wharf -edge !     Steady ! 
Watch  for  a  smooth !     Give  way ! 
If  she  feels  the  lop  already 
She'll  stand  on  her  head  in  the  bay. 
It's  ebb — it's  dusk — it's  blowing, 
The  shoals  are  a  mile  of  white, 
But  (snatch  her  along!)  we're  going 
To  fmd  our  master  to-night. 


For  we  hold  that  in  all  disaster 
Of  shipwreck,  storm,  or  sword, 

A  Man  must  stand  by  his  Master 
When  once  he  has  pledged  his  word. 


Raging  seas  have  we  rowed  in, 

But  we  seldom  saw  them  thus, 
Our  master  is  angry  with  Odin — 

Odin  is  angry  with  us! 
Heavy  odds  have  we  taken. 

But  never  before  such  odds. 
The  Gods  know  they  are  forsaken. 

We  must  risk  the  wrath  of  the  Gods! 

203 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Over  the  crest  she  flies  from, 

Into  its  hollow  she  drops, 
Cringes  and  clears  her  eyes  from 

The  wind-torn  breaker-tops, 
Ere  out  on  the  shrieking  shoulder 

Of  a  hill-high  surge  she  drives. 
Meet  her!     Meet  her  and  hold  her! 

Pull  for  your  scoundrel  lives! 


The  thunders  bellow  and  clamour 

The  harm  that  they  mean  to  do! 
1  here  goes  Thor's  own  Hammer 

Cracking  the  dark  in  two! 
Close!     But  the  blow  has  missed  her, 

Here  comes  the  wind  of  the  blow! 
Row  or  the  squall '11  twist  her 

Broadside  on  to  it! — Row! 


Heark  'ee,  Thor  of  the  Thunder, 

We  are  not  here  for  a  jest — 
For  wager,  warfare  or  plunder. 

Or  to  put  your  power  to  test. 
This  work  is  none  of  our  wishing — 

We  would  house  at  home  if  we  might — 
But  our  master  is  wrecked  out  fishing. 

We  go  to  find  him  to-night. 

For  we  hold  that  in  all  disaster — 
As  the  Gods  Themselves  have  said— 

A  Man  must  stand  by  his  Master 
Till  one  of  the  two  is  dead. 
201 


SONG  OF  THE  RED  WAR-BOAT 

That  is  our  way  of  thinking, 

Now  you  can  do  as  you  will. 
While  we  try  to  save  her  from  sinking 

And  hold  her  head  to  it  still. 
Bale  her  and  keep  her  moving, 

Or  she'll  break  her  back  in  the  trough.     . 
Who  said  the  weather's  improving, 

Or  the  swells  are  taking  off? 


Sodden,  and  chafed  and  aching. 

Gone  in  the  loins  and  knees — 
No  matter — the  day  is  breaking. 

And  there's  far  less  weight  to  the  seas! 
Up  mast,  and  finish  baling — 

In  oars,  and  out  with  the  mead — 
The  rest  will  be  two-reef  sailing.     .     .     . 

That  was  a  night  indeed! 

But  we  hold  that  in  all  disaster 

(And  faith,  we  have  found  it  true!) 

If  only  you  stand  by  your  master, 
The  Gods  will  stand  by  you! 


205 


HUNTING-SONG  OF  THE  SEEONEE  PACK 

AS  the  dawn  was  breaking  the  Sambhur  belled — 
L\         Once,  twice  and  again! 
^     ^  And  a  doe  leaped  up,  and  a  doe  leaped  up 
From  the  pond  in  the  wood  where  the  wild  deer  sup. 
This  I,  scouting  alone,  beheld, 
Once,  twice  and  again! 

As  the  dawn  was  breaking  the  Sambhur  belled — 

Once,  twice  and  again! 
And  a  wolf  stole  back,  and  a  wolf  stole  back 
To  carry  the  word  to  the  waiting  pack, 
And  we  sought  and  we  found  and  we  bayed  on  his  track 

Once,  twice  and  again! 

As  the  dawn  was  breaking  the  Wolf  Pack  yelled 

Once,  twice  and  again! 
Feet  in  the  jungle  that  leave  no  mark! 
Eyes  that  can  see  in  the  dark — the  dark! 
Tongue — give  tongue  to  it!     Hark!     0  hark! 

Once,  twice  and  again! 


206 


BLUE  ROSES 

ROSES  red  and  roses  white 
Plucked  I  for  my  love's  delight. 
She  would  none  of  all  my  posies- 
Bade  me  gather  her  blue  roses. 

Half  the  world  I  wandered  through, 
Seeking  where  such  flowers  grew. 
Half  the  world  unto  my  quest 
Answered  me  with  laugh  and  jest. 

Home  I  came  at  wintertide, 
But  my  silly  love  had  died, 
Seeking  with  her  latest  breath 
Roses  from  the  arms  of  Death. 

It  may  be  beyond  the  grave 
She  shall  find  what  she  would  have. 
Mine  was  but  an  idle  quest — 
Roses  white  and  red  are  best. 


207 


o 


A  RIPPLE  SONG 

NCE  a  ripple  came  to  land 

In  the  golden  sunset  burning — 
Lapped  against  a  maiden's  hand, 
By  the  ford  returning. 


Dainty  foot  and  gentle  breast — 
Here,  across,  be  glad  and  rest. 
'Maiden,  wait,'  the  ripple  saith; 
'Wait  awhile,  for  I  am  Death!' 

'  Where  my  lover  calls  I  go — 

Shame  it  were  to  treat  him  coldly- 

'Twas  a  fish  that  circled  so. 
Turning  over  boldly.' 

Dainty  foot  and  tender  heart, 
Wait  the  loaded  ferr^^-cart. 
'Wait,  ah,  wait!'  the  ripple  saith; 
'Maiden,  wait,  for  I  am  Death!' 

'  When  my  lover  calls  I  haste — 
Dame  Disdain  was  never  wedded!' 

Ripple-ripple  round  her  waist. 
Clear  the  current  eddied. 
208 


A  RIPPLE  SONG 

Foolish  heart  and  faithful  hand, 
Little  feet  that  touched  no  land. 
Far  away  the  ripple  sped, 
Ripple — ripple — running  red ! 


209 


E 


PSYCHE  AND  THE  CHILDREN 

YES  aloft,  over  dangerous  places, 

The  children  follow  where  Psyche  flies. 
And,  in  the  sweat  of  their  upturned  faces, 
Slash  with  a  net  at  the  empty  skies. 


So  it  goes  they  fall  amid  brambles. 

And  sting  their  toes  on  the  nettle-tops. 

Till  after  a  thousand  scratches  and  scrambles, 
They  wipe  their  brows  and  the  hunting  stops. 

Then  to  quiet  them  comes  their  father 

And  stills  the  riot  of  pain  and  grief. 
Saying,  'Little  ones,  go  and  gather 

Out  of  my  garden  a  cabbage-leaf. 

'You  will  find  on  it  whorls  and  clots  of 

Dull  gray  eggs  that,  properly  fed, 
Turn,  by  way  of  the  worm,  to  lots  of 

Radiant  Psyches  raised  from  the  dead.' 

'Heaven  is  beautiful.  Earth  is  ugly,' 

The  three-dimensioned  preacher  saith, 
So  we  must  not  look  where  the  snail  and  the  slug  lie 

For  Psyche's  birth.     .     .     .     And  that  is  our  death! 


210 


T 


MY  LADY'S  LAW 

HE  Law  whereby  my  lady  moves 
Was  never  Law  to  me, 
But  'tis  enough  that  she  approves. 
Whatever  Law  it  be. 


For  in  that  Law,  and  by  that  Law, 

My  constant  course  I'll  steer; 
Not  that  I  heed  or  deem  it  dread, 

Bui  that  she  holds  it  dear. 

Tho'  Asia  sent  for  my  content 

Her  richest  argosies, 
Those  would  I  spurn,  and  bid  return, 

If  that  should  give  her  ease. 

With  equal  heart  I'd  watch  depart 

Each  spiced  sail  from  sight, 
Sans  bilLerness,  desiring  less 

Great  gear  than  her  dehght. 

Though  Kings  made  swift  with  many  a  gift 

My  proven  sword  to  hire — 
I  would  not  go  nor  serve  'em  so — 

Except  at  her  desire. 
211 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

With  even  mind,  I'd  put  behind 

Adventure  and  acclaim, 
And  clean  give  o'er,  esteeming  more 

Her  favour  than  my  fame. 


Yet  such  am  I,  yea  such  am  I — 

Sore  bond  and  freest  free, 
The  Law  that  sways  my  lady's  ways 

Is  mystery  to  me! 


212 


o 


THE  NURSING  SISTER 

(Maternity  Hospital) 

UR  sister  sayeth  such  and  such. 
And  we  must  bow  to  her  behests; 
Our  sister  toileth  overmuch. 

Our  httle  maid  that  hath  no  breasts. 


A  field  untilled,  a  web  unwove, 
A  flower  withheld  from  sun  or  bee. 

An  alien  in  the  courts  of  Love, 
And — teacher  unto  such  as  we! 

We  love  her,  but  we  laugh  the  while. 

We  laugh,  but  sobs  are  mixed  with  laughter; 

Our  sister  hath  no  time  to  smile, 

She  knows  not  what  must  follow  after. 

Wind  of  the  South,  arise  and  blow. 

From  beds  of  spice  thy  locks  shake  free; 

Breathe  on  her  heart  that  she  may  know, 
Breathe  on  her  eyes  that  she  may  see. 

Alas!  we  vex  her  with  our  mirth, 

And  maze  her  with  most  tender  scorn, 

Who  stands  beside  the  gates  of  Birth, 
Herself  a  child — a  child  unborn! 
213 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Our  sister  saycLh  such  and  such, 
And  we  must  bow  to  her  behests; 

Our  sister  toileth  overmuch, 

Our  httle  maid  that  hath  no  breasts. 


214 


A 


THE  LOVE  SONG  OF  IIAR  DYAL 

LONE  upon  the  housetops  to  the  North 

I  turn  and  watch  the  hghtning  in  the  sky,- 
The  glamour  of  thy  footsteps  in  the  North. 
Come  back  to  me,  Beloved,  or  I  die. 


Below  my  feet  the  still  bazar  is  laid — 
Far,  far  below  the  weary  camels  lie — 

The  camels  and  the  captives  of  thy  raid. 
Come  back  to  me,  Beloved,  or  I  die! 

My  father's  wife  is  old  and  harsh  with  years, 
And  drudge  of  all  my  father's  house  am  I— 

My  bread  is  sorrow  and  my  drink  is  tears. 
Come  back  to  me.  Beloved,  or  I  die! 


215 


A  DEDICATION 

A  ND  they  were  stronger  hands  than  mine 
Z-X     That  digged  the  Ruby  from  the  earth — 
-^     ^  More  cunning  brains  that  made  it  worth 
The  large  desire  of  a  king, 
And  stouter  hearts  that  through  the  brine 
Went  down  the  perfect  Pearl  to  bring. 

Lo,  I  have  wrought  in  common  clay 
Rude  figures  of  a  rough-hewn  race, 
Since  pearls  strew  not  the  market-place 
In  this  my  town  of  banishment, 
Where  with  the  shifting  dust  I  play, 
And  eat  the  bread  of  discontent. 

Yet  is  there  life  in  that  I  make. 

0  thou  who  knowest,  turn  and  see — 
As  thou  hast  power  over  me 

So  have  I  power  over  these 

Because  I  wrought  them  for  thy  sake, 

And  breathed  in  them  mine  agonies. 

Small  mirth  was  in  the  making — now 

1  lift  the  cloth  that  cloaks  the  clay. 
And,  wearied,  at  thy  feet  I  lay 
My  wares,  ere  I  go  forth  to  sell. 

The  long  bazar  will  praise,  but  thou — 
Heart  of  my  heart — have  I  done  well  ? 

216 


I 


MOTHER  0'  MINE 

F  I  were  hanged  on  the  highest  hill, 
Mother  o'  mine,  0  mother  o'  mine! 
I  know  whose  love  would  follow  me  still, 
Mother  o'  mine,  0  mother  o'  mine! 


If  I  were  drowned  in  the  deepest  sea, 
Mother  o'  mine,  0  mother  o'  mine! 

I  know  whose  tears  would  come  down  to  me, 
Mother  o'  mine,  0  mother  o'  mine! 

If  I  were  damned  of  body  and  soul, 
I  know  whose  prayers  would  make  me  whole, 
Mother  o'  mine,  O  mother  o'  mine! 


217 


THE  ONLY  SON 

SHE  dropped  the  bar,  she  shol  the  bolt,  she  fed  the 
fire  anew, 
For  she  heard  a  whimper  under  the  sill  and  a  great 
gray  paw  came  through. 
The  fresh  flame  comforted  the  hut  and  shone  on  the  roof- 
beam. 
And  the  Only  Son  lay  down  again  and  dreamed  that  he 

dreamed  a  dream. 
The  last  ash  fell  from  the  withered  log  with  the  click  of  a 

falling  spark. 
And  the  Only  Son  woke  up  again,  and  called  across  the 

dark: — 
'Now  was  I  born  of  womankind  and  laid  in  a  mother's 

breast? 
For  I  have  dreamed  of  a  shaggy  hide  whereon  I  went  to 

rest? 
And  was  I  born  of  womankind  and  laid  on  a  father's 

arm? 
For  I  have  dreamed  of  clashing  teeth  that  guarded  me 

from  harm. 
And  was  I  born  an  Only  Son  and  did  I  play  alone? 
For  I  have  dreamed  of  comrades  twain  that  bit  me  to 

the  bone. 
And  did  I  break  the  barley-cake  and  steep  it  in  the  tyre? 
For  I  have  dreamed  of  a  youngling  kid  new-riven  from 

the  byre. 

218 


THE  ONLY  SON 

For  I  have  dreamed  of  a  midnight  sky  and  a  midnight 

call  to  blood 
And  red-mouthed  shadows  racing  by,  that  thrust  me 

from  my  food. 
'Tis  an  hour  yet  and  an  hour  yet  to  the  rising  of  the 

moon, 
But  I  can  see  the  black  roof-tree  as  plain  as  it  were  noon. 
'Tis  a  league  and  a  league  to  the  Lena  Falls  where  the 

trooping  blackbuck  go; 
But  I  can  hear  the  little  fawn  that  bleats  behind  the  doe. 
'Tis  a  league  and  a  league  to  the  Lena  Falls  where  the 

crop  and  the  upland  meet, 
But  I  can  smell  the  wet  dawn-wind  that  wakes  the 

sprouting  wheat. 
Unbar  the  door,  I  may  not  bide,  but  I  must  out  and  see 
If  those  are  wolves  that  wait  outside  or  my  own  kin  to 

me!' 

She  loosed  the  bar,  she  slid  the  bolt,  she  opened  the  door 

anon. 
And  a  gray  bitch-wolf  came  out  of  the  dark  and  fawned 

on  the  Only  Son! 


219 


MOWGLI'S  SONG  AGAINST  PEOPLE 

1W1LL  let  loose  against  you  the  fleet-fooled  vines — 
I  will  call  in  the  Jungle  to  stamp  out  your  Unes! 
The  roofs  shall  fade  before  it, 
The  house-beams  shall  fall, 
And  the  Karela,  Ihe  bitter  Karela, 
Shall  cover  it  all! 

In  the  gates  of  these  your  councils  my  people  shall  sing. 
In  the  doors  of  these  your  garners  the  Bat-folk  shall 
cling; 

And  the  snake  shall  be  your  watchman, 

By  a  hearthstone  unswept; 
For  the  Karela,  the  bitter  Karela, 
Shall  fruit  where  ye  slept! 

Ye  shall  not  see  my  strikers;  ye  shall  hear  them  and 

guess; 
By  night,  before  the  moon-rise,  I  will  send  for  my  cess, 
And  the  wolf  shall  be  your  herdsman 

By  a  landmark  removed, 
For  the  Karela,  the  bitter  Karela, 
Shall  seed  where  ye  loved ! 

I  will  reap  your  fields  before  you  at  the  hands  of  a  host; 
Ye  shall  glean  behind  my  reapers  for  the  bread  that  is  lost ; 
And  the  deer  shall  be  your  oxen 
220 


MOWGLI'S  SONG  AGAINST  PEOPLE 

On  a  headland  untilled, 
For  the  Karela,  the  bitter  Karela, 
Shall  leaf  where  ye  build ! 

I  have  untied  against  you  the  club-footed  vines — 
I  have  sent  in  the  Jungle  to  swamp  out  your  lines! 
The  trees — the  trees  are  on  you ! 

The  house-beams  shall  fall, 
And  the  Karela,  the  bitter  Karela, 
Shall  cover  you  all ! 


221 


o 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

H,  little  did  the  Wolf-Child  care- 
When  first  he  planned  his  home, 

What  city  should  arise  and  bear 
The  weight  and  state  of  Rome. 


A  shiftless,  westward-wandering  tramp, 

Checked  by  the  Tiber  flood, 
He  reared  a  wall  around  his  camp 

Of  uninspired  mud. 

But  when  his  brother  leaped  the  Wall 
And  mocked  its  height  and  make. 

He  guessed  the  future  of  it  all 
And  slew  him  for  its  sake. 

Swift  was  the  blow — swift  as  the  thought 
Which  showed  him  in  that  hour 

How  unbelief  may  bring  to  naught 
The  early  steps  of  Power. 

Foreseeing  Time's  imperilled  hopes 
Of  Glory,  Grace,  and  Love — 

All  singers,  Caesars,  artists,  Popes — 
Would  fail  if  Remus  throve. 
222 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

He  sent  his  brother  to  the  Gods, 
And,  when  the  fit  was  o'er, 

Went  on  collecting  turves  and  clods 
To  build  the  Wall  once  more! 


223 


THE  EGG-SHELL 

THE  wind  took  off  with  the  sunset — 
The  fog  came  up  with  the  tide, 
When  the  Witch  of  the  North  took  an  Egg-shell 
With  a  little  Blue  Devil  inside. 
'Sink,'  she  said,  'or  swim,'  she  said, 

'  It's  all  you  will  get  from  me. 
And  that  is  the  finish  of  him!'  she  said, 
And  the  Egg-shell  went  to  sea. 

The  wind  fell  dead  with  the  midnight — 

The  fog  shut  down  like  a  sheet, 
When  the  Witch  of  the  North  heard  the  Egg-shell 

Feeling  by  hand  for  a  fleet. 
'Get!'  she  said,  'or  you're  gone,'  she  said, 

But  the  httle  Blue  Devil  said  'No!' 
'The  sights  are  just  coming  on,'  he  said. 

And  he  let  the  Whitehead  go. 

The  wind  got  up  with  the  morning — 

And  the  fog  blew  off  with  the  rain, 
When  the  Witch  of  the  North  saw  the  Egg-shell 

And  the  little  Blue  Devil  again. 
'Did  you  swim?'  she  said.     'Did  you  sink?'  she  said, 

And  the  Little  Blue  Devil  replied: 
'For  myself  I  swam,  but  I  think,'  he  said. 

'There's  somebody  sinking  outside.' 

224 


THE  KING  AND  THK  CHILDREN 

ONCE  on  a  time  was  a  King  anxious  to  understand 
What  was  the  wisest  thing  a  man  could  do  for 
his  land. 
Most  of  his  population  hurried  to  answer  the  question. 
Each  with  a  long  oration,  each  with  a  new  suggestion. 
They  interrupted  his  meals,  he  wasn't  safe  in  his  bed 

from  'em, 
They  hung  round  his  neck  and  heels,  and  at  last  His 
Majesty  fled  from  'em. 


He  put  on  a  leper's  cloak  (people  leave  lepers  alone). 
Out  of  the  window  he  broke,  and  abdicated  his  throne. 
All  that  rapturous  day,  while  his  Court  and  his  Minis- 
ters mourned  him. 
He  danced  on  his  own  highway  till  his  own  Policemen 

warned  him. 
Gay  and  cheerful  he  ran  (lepers  don't  cheer  as  a  rule) 
Till  he  found  a  philosopher-man  teaching  an  infant 
school. 


The  windows  were  open  wide,  the  King  sat  down  on  the 

grass, 
And  heard  the  children  inside  reciting  'Our  King  is  an 

Ass.' 

225 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

The  King  popped  in  his  head   '  Some  people  would  call 

this  treason, 
But  I  think  you  are  right,'  he  said;  'will  you  kindly  give 

me  your  reason?' 
Lepers  in  school  are  as  rare  as  kings  with  a  leper's  dress 

on, 
But  the  class  didn't  stop  or  stare;  it  calmly  went  on 

with  the  lesson: 


'The  wisest  thing,  we  suppose,  that  a  man  can  do  for  his 
land. 

Is  the  work  that  lies  under  his  nose,  with  the  tools  that 
lie  under  his  hand.' 

The  King  whipped  off  his  cloak,  and  stood  in  his  crown 
before  'em. 

He  said: — 'My  dear  httle  folk,  "Ex  ore  parvulorum" 

(Which  is  Latin  for  "Children  know  more  than  grown- 
ups would  credit") 

You  have  shown  me  the  road  to  go,  and  I  propose  to 
tread  it.' 


Back  to  his  Kingdom  he  ran,  and  issued  a  Proclamation, 
'Let  every  living  man  return  to  his  occupation!' 
Then  he  explained  lo  the  mob  that  cheered  in  his  palace 

and  round  it, 
'  I've  been  to  look  for  a  job,  and  Heaven  be  praised  I've 

found  it!' 


226 


THE  KING'S  TASK 

A  FTER  the  sack  of  the  City,  when  Rome  was  sunk 
ZA         to  a  name, 
-^    ^    In  the  years  that  the  hghts  were  darkened,  or 

ever  St.  Wilfrid  came. 
Low  on  the  borders  of  Britain  (the  ancient  poets  sing) 
Between  the  Chff  and  the  Forest  there  ruled  a  Saxon 

King. 
Stubborn  all  were  his  people  from  cottar  to  overlord — 
Not  to  be  cowed  by  the  cudgel,  scarce  to  be  schooled  by 

the  sword; 
Quick  to  turn  at  their  pleasure,  cruel  to  cross  in  their 

mood. 
And  set  on  paths  of  their  choosing  as  the  hogs  of  An- 

dred's  Wood. 
Laws  they  made  in  the  Witan — the  laws  of  flaying  and 

fme — 
Common,  ioppage  and  pannage,  the  theft  and  the  track 

of  kine — 
Statutes  of  tun  and  market  for  the  fish  and  the  malt  and 

the  meal — 
The  tax  on  the  Bramber  packhorse  and  the  tax  on  the 

Hastings  keel. 
Over  the  graves  of  the  Druids  and  under  the  wreck  of 

Rome, 
Rudely  but  surely  they  bedded  the  plinth  of  the  days  to 

come. 

227 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Behind  the  feet  of  the  Legions  and  before  the  Norse- 
man's ire, 
Rudely  but  greatly  begat  they  the  framing  of  state  and 

shire. 
Rudely  but  deeply  they  laboured,  and  their  labour 

stands  till  now. 
If  we  trace  on  our  ancient  headlands  the  twist  of  their 

eight-ox  plough. 
There  came  a  king  from  Ilamtun,  by  Bosenham  he 

came, 
He  filled  Use  with  slaughter,  and  Lewes  he  gave  to  flame. 
He  smote  while  they  sat  in  the  Witan — sudden  he  smote 

and  sore, 
That  his  fleet  was  gathered  at  Selsea  ere  they  mustered 

at  Cymen's  Ore. 
Blithe  went  the  Saxons  to  battle,  by  down  and  wood  and 

mere, 
But  thrice  the  acorns  ripened  ere  the  western  mark  was 

clear. 
Thrice  was  the  beechmast  gathered  and  the  Beltane  fires 

burned 
Thrice,  and  the  beeves  were  salted  thrice  ere  the  host 

returned. 
They  drove  that  king  from  Hamtun,  by  Bosenham  o'er- 

thrown, 
Out  of  Rugnor  to  Wilton  they  made  his  land  their  own. 
Camps  they  builded  at  Gilling,  at  Basing  and  Alresford, 
But  wrath  abode  in  the  Saxons  from  cottar  to  over- 
lord. 
Wrath  at  the  weary  war-game,  at  the  foe  that  snapped 

and  ran 
Wolf-wise  feigning  and  flying,  and  wolf-wise  snatching 

his  man. 

228 


THE  KING'S  TASK 

Wrath  for  their  spears  unready,  their  levies  new  to  the 

blades — 
Shame  for  the  helpless  sieges  and  the  scornful  ambus- 
cades. 
At  hearth  and  tavern  and  market,  wherever  the  tale  was 

told, 
Shame  and  wrath  had  the  Saxons  because  of  their  boasts 

of  old. 
And  some  would  drink  and  deny  it,  and  some  would 

pray  and  atone; 
But  the  most  part,  after  their  anger,  avouched  that  the 

sin  was  their  own. 
Wherefore,  girding  together,  up  to  the  Witan  they  came, 
And  as  they  had  shouldered  their  bucklers  so  did  they 

shoulder  their  blame. 
For  that  was  the  wont  of  the  Saxons  (the  ancient  poets 

sing), 
And  first  they  spoke  in  the  Witan  and  then  they  spoke 

to  the  King: 
'  Edward  King  of  the  Saxons,  thou  knowest  from  sire  to 

son, 
One  is  the  King  and  his  People — in  gain  and  ungain  one. 
Count  we  the  gain  together.    With  doubtings  and  spread 

dismays 
We  have  broken  a  foolish  people — but  after  many  days. 
Count  we  the  loss  together.     Warlocks  hampered  our 

arms. 
We  were  tricked  as  by  magic,  we  were  turned  as  by 

charms. 
We  went  down  to  the  battle  and  the  road  was  plain  to 

keep. 
But  our  angry  eyes  were  holden,  and  we  struck  as  they 

strike  in  sleep — 

229 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Men  new  shaken  from  slumber,  sweating,  with  eyes 

a-stare, 
Little  blows  uncertain  dealt  on  the  useless  air. 
Also  a  vision  betrayed  us  and  a  lying  tale  made  bold 
That  we  looked  to  hold  what  we  had  not  and  to  have 

what  we  did  not  hold : 
That  a  shield  should  give  us  shelter — that  a  sword  should 

give  us  power, 
A  shield  snatched  up  at  a  venture  and  a  hilt  scarce  han- 
dled an  hour: 
That  being  rich  in  the  open,  we  should  be  strong  in  the 

close — 
And  the  Gods  would  sell  us  a  cunning  for  the  day  that 

we  met  our  foes. 
This  was  the  work  of  wizards,  but  not  with  our  foe  they 

bide, 
In  our  own  camp  we  took  them,  and  their  names  are 

Sloth  and  Pride. 
Our  pride  was  before  the  battle;  our  sloth  ere  we  lifted 

spear. 
But  hid  in  the  heart  of  the  people  as  the  fever  hides  in 

the  mere, 
Waiting  only  the  war-game,  the  heat  of  the  strife  to 

rise 
As  the  ague  fumes  round  Oxeney  when  the  rotting  reed- 
bed  dries. 
But  now  we  are  purged  of  that  fever — cleansed  by  the 

letting  of  blood. 
Something  leaner  of  body — something  keener  of  mood. 
And  the  men  new-freed  from  the  levies  return  to  the 

fields  again. 
Matching   a   hundred   battles,    cottar   and    lord    and 

thane, 

230 


THE  KING'S  TASK 

And  they  talk  aloud  in  the  temples  where  the  ancient 

war-gods  are. 
They  thumb  and  mock  and  belittle  the  holy  harness  of 

war. 
They  jest  at  the  sacred  chariots,  the  robes  and  the  gilded 

staff— 
These  things  fill  them  with  laughter,  they  lean  on  their 

spears  and  laugh. 
The  men  grown  old  in  the  war-game,  hither  and  thither 

they  range — 
And  scorn  and  laughter  together  are  sire  and  dam  of 

change ; 
And  change  may  be  good  or  evil — but  we  know  not 

what  it  will  bring. 
Therefore  our  King  must  teach  us.     That  is  thy  task, 

0  King!' 


231 


TOGETHER 

WHEN  Horse  and  Rider  each  can  trust  the 
other  everywhere, 
It  takes  a  fence  and  more  than  a  fence  Lo 
pound  that  happy  pair; 
For  the  one  will  do  what  the  other  demands,  although  he 

is  beaten  and  blown, 
And  when  it  is  done,  they  can  live  through  a  run  that 
neither  could  face  alone. 

When  Crew  and  Captain  understand  each  other  to  the 

core, 
It  takes  a  gale  and  more  than  a  gale  to  put  their  ship 

ashore; 
For  the  one  will  do  what  the  other  commands,  although 

they  are  chilled  to  the  bone. 
And  both  together  can  live  through  weather  that  neither 

could  face  alone. 

When  King  and  People  understand  each  other  past  a 

doubt, 
It  takes  a  foe  and  more  than  a  foe  to  knock  that  country 

out ; 
For  the  one  will  do  what  the  other  one  asks  as  soon  as 

the  need  is  known, 
And  hand  in  hand  they  can  make  a  stand  which  neither 

could  make  alone! 

232 


TOGETHER 

This  wisdom  had  Ehzabeih  and  all  her  subjects  too, 
For  she  was  theirs  and  they  were  hers,  as  well  the 

Spaniard  knew; 
For  when  his  grim  Armada  came  to  conquer  the  Nation 

and  Throne, 
Why,  back  to  back  they  met  an  attack  that  neither 

could  face  alone! 

It  is  not  wealth  nor  talk  nor  trade  nor  schools  nor  even 

the  Vote, 
Will  save  your  land  when  the  enemy's  hand  is  tightening 

round  your  throat. 
But  a  King  and  a  People  who  thoroughly  trust  each 

other  in  all  that  is  done 
Can  sleep  on  their  bed  without  any  dread — for  the 

world  will  leave  'em  alone! 


233 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 
The  Jungle  Books 

NOW  Chil  the  Kite  brings  home  the  night 
That  Mang  the  Bat  sets  free — 
The  herds  are  shut  in  byre  and  hut 
For  loosed  till  dawn  are  we. 
This  is  the  hour  of  pride  and  power, 

Talon  and  tush  and  claw. 
Oh  hear  the  call ! — Good  hunting  all 
That  keep  the  Jungle  Law! 

'  Mowgli's  Brothers.' 

His  spots  are  the  joy  of  the  Leopard:  his  horns  are  the 

BufTalo's  pride. 
Be  clean,  for  the  strength  of  the  hunter  is  known  by  the 

gloss  of  his  hide. 
If  ye  find  that  the  bullock  can  toss  you,  or  Ihe  heavy 

browed  Sambhur  can  gore; 
Ye  need  not  stop  work  to  inform  us.     We  knew  it  ten 

seasons  before. 
Oppress  not  the  cubs  of  the  stranger,  but  hail  them  as 

Sister  and  Brother, 
For  though  they  are  little  and  fubsy,  it  may  be  the  Bear 

is  their  mother. 
*  There  is  none  like  to  me!'  says  the  Cub  in  the  pride  of 

his  earliest  kill; 

234 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

But  the  Jungle  is  large  and  the  Cub  he  is  small.     Let 
him  think  and  be  still. 

'Kaa's  Hunting.' 

The  stream  is  shrunk — the  pool  is  dry, 
And  we  be  comrades,  thou  and  I; 
With  fevered  jowl  and  dusty  flank 
Each  jostling  each  along  the  bank; 
And,  by  one  drouthy  fear  made  still. 
Foregoing  thought  of  quest  or  kill. 
Now  'neath  his  dam  the  fawn  may  see, 
The  lean  Pack-wolf  as  cowed  as  he, 
And  the  tall  buck,  unflinching,  note 
The  fangs  that  tore  his  father's  throat. 
The  pools  are  shrunk — the  streams  are  dry. 
And  we  be  playmates,  thou  and  I, 
Till  yonder  cloud — Good  Hunting! — loose 
The  rain  that  breaks  our  Water  Truce. 

'How  Fear  Came.' 

What  of  the  hunting,  hunter  bold? 

Brother,  the  watch  was  long  and  cold. 
What  of  the  quarry  ye  went  to  kill? 

Brother,  he  crops  in  the  jungle  still. 
Where  is  the  power  that  made  your  pride? 

Brother,  it  ebbs  from  my  flank  and  side. 
Where  is  the  haste  that  ye  hurry  bj'^? 

Brother,  I  go  to  my  lair  to  die! 

'Tiger!  Tiger!' 

Veil  them,  cover  them,  wall  them  round — 

Blossom,  and  creeper,  and  weed — 
Let  us  forget  the  sight  and  the  sound, 

The  smell  and  the  touch  of  the  breed? 

235 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Fat  black  ash  by  the  altar-stone, 

Here  is  the  white-foot  rain, 
And  the  does  bring  forth  in  the  fields  unsown, 

And  noon  shall  affright  them  again; 
And  the  blind  walls  crumble,  unknown,  o'erthrown. 

And  none  shall  inhabit  again! 

'Letting  in  the  Jungle.' 

These  are  Lhc  Four  that  are  never  content,  that  have 
never  been  filled  since  the  Dews  began — 

Jacala's  mouth,  and  the  glut  of  the  Kite,  and  the  hands 
of  the  Ape,  and  the  Eyes  of  Man. 

*The  King's  Ankus.' 

For  our  white  and  our  excellent  nights — for  the  nights  of 
swift  running. 
Fair  ranging,  far-seeing,  good  hunting,  sure  cunning! 
For  the  smells  of  the  dawning,  untainted,  ere  dew  has 

departed ! 
For  the  rush  through  the  mist,  and  the  quarry  blind- 
started  ! 
For  the  cry  of  our  mates  when  the  sambhur  has  wheeled 
and  is  standing  at  bay! 

For  the  risk  and  the  riot  of  night! 
For  the  sleep  at  the  lair-mouth  by  day! 
It  is  met,  and  we  go  to  the  fight. 
Bay!     0  bay! 

'Red  Dog.' 

Man  goes  to  Man !     Cry  the  challenge  through  the  Jun- 
gle! 
He  that  was  our  Brother  goes  away. 
Hear,  now,  and  judge,  0  ye  People  of  the  Jungle, — 
Answer,  who  shall  turn  him — who  shall  stay? 

236 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

Man  goes  to  Man!     He  is  weeping  in  the  Jungle: 

He  that  was  our  Brother  sorrows  sore! 
Man  goes  to  Man!     (Oh,  we  loved  him  in  the  Jungle!) 

To  the  Man-Trail  where  we  may  not  follow  more. 

'The  Spring  Running.' 

At  the  hole  where  he  went  in 
Red-Eye  called  to  Wrinkle-Skin. 
Hear  what  little  Red-Eye  saith : 
'Nag,  come  up  and  dance  with  death!' 

Eye  to  eye  and  head  to  head, 

(Keep  the  measure,  Nag.) 
This  shall  end  when  one  is  dead;' 

(At  thy  pleasure,  Nag.) 

Turn  for  turn  and  twist  for  twist — 

(Run  and  hide  thee,  Nag.) 
Hah!    The  hooded  Death  has  missed! 

(Woe  betide  thee.  Nag!) 

'Rikki-Tikki-Tavi.' 


Oh!  hush  thee,  my  baby,  the  night  is  behind  us, 

And  black  are  the  waters  that  sparkled  so  green. 
The  moon,  o'er  the  combers,  looks  downward  to  fmd  us 

At  rest  in  the  hollows  that  rustle  between. 
Where  billow  meets  billow,  there  soft  be  thy  pillow; 

Ah,  weary  wee  flipperling,  curl  at  thy  ease! 
The  storm  shall  not  wake  thee,  nor  shark  overtake  thee, 

Asleep  in  the  arms  of  the  slow-swinging  seas. 

'The  White  Seal.' 
237 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

You  mustn't  swim  till  you're  six  weeks  old, 

Or  your  head  will  be  sunk  by  your  heels; 
And  summer  gales  and  Killer  Whales 

Are  bad  for  baby  seals. 
Are  bad  for  baby  seals,  dear  rat. 

As  bad  as  bad  can  be; 
But  splash  and  grow  strong, 
And  you  can't  be  wrong, 

Child  of  the  Open  Sea! 

'The  White  Seal.' 

I  will  remember  what  I  was,  I  am  sick  of  rope  and  chain. 

I  will  remember  my  old  strength  and  all  my  forest 

affairs. 

1  will  not  sell  my  back  to  man  for  a  bundle  of  sugar-cane. 

I  will  go  out  to  my  own  kind,  and  the  wood-folk  in 

their  lairs. 

I  will  go  out  until  the  day,  until  the  morning  break, 
Out  to  the  winds'  untainted  kiss,  the  waters'  clean 
caress. 
1  will  forget  my  ankle-ring  and  snap  my  picket-stake. 
I  will  revisit  my  lost  loves,  and  playmates  masterless! 

'Toomai  of  the  Elephants.' 

The  People  of  the  Eastern  Ice,  they  are  melting  like  the 

snow — 
They  beg  for  coffee  and  sugar;  they  go  where  the  white 

men  go. 
The  People  of  the  Western  Ice,  they  learn  to  steal  and 

fight; 
They  sell  their  furs  to  the  trading-post;  they  sell  their 

souls  to  the  white. 

238 


CHAPTER  HEADINGS 

The  People  of  the  Southern  Ice,  they  trade  with  the 

whaler's  crew; 
Their  women  have  many  ribbons,  but  their  tents  are 

torn  and  few. 
But  the  People  of  the  Elder  Ice,  beyond  the  white  man's 

ken — 
Their  spears  are  made  of  the  narwhal-horn,  and  they  are 

the  last  of  the  Men! 

'Quiquern.' 

When  ye  say  to  Tabaqui,  *My  Brother!'  when  ye  call 

the  Hyena  to  meat. 
Ye  may  cry  the  Full  Truce  with  Jacala — the  Belly  that 

runs  on  four  feet. 

'The  Undertakers.' 

The  night  we  felt  the  earth  would  move 
We  stole  and  plucked  him  by  the  hand, 

Because  we  loved  him  with  the  love 
That  knows  but  cannot  understand. 

And  when  the  roaring  hillside  broke, 
And  all  our  world  fell  down  in  rain, 

We  saved  him,  we  the  Little  Folk; 
But  lo!  he  does  not  come  again! 

Mourn  now,  we  saved  him  for  the  sake 
Of  such  poor  love  as  wild  ones  may. 

Mourn  ye!     Our  brother  will  not  wake. 
And  his  own  kind  drive  us  away! 

'The  Miracle  of  Purun  Bhagat.' 


239 


POSEIDON'S  LAW 

WHEN  the  robust  and  Brass-bound  Man  com- 
missioned first  for  sea 
His    fragile    raft,    Poseidon    laughed,    and 
'Mariner,'  said  he, 
'Behold,  a  Law  immutable  I  lay  on  thee  and  thine, 
That  never  shall  ye  act  or  tell  a  falsehood  at  my  shrine. 

*  Let  Zeus  adjudge  your  landward  kin  whose  votive  meal 
and  salt 

At  easy-cheated  altars  win  oblivion  for  .the  fault. 

But  you  the  unhoodwinked  wave  shall  test — the  im- 
mediate gulf  condemn — 

Except  ye  owe  the  Fates  a  jest,  be  slow  to  jest  with  them. 

*Ye  shall  not  clear  by  Greekly  speech,  nor  cozen  from 
your  path 

The  twinkling  shoal,  the  leeward  beach,  and  Hadria's 
white-lipped  wrath; 

Nor  tempt  with  painted  cloth  for  wood  my  fraud- 
avenging  hosts; 

Nor  make  at  all,  or  all  make  good,  your  bulwarks  and 
your  boasts. 

'  Now  and  henceforward  serve  unshod,  through  wet  and 

wakeful  shifts, 
A  present  and  oppressive  God,  but  take,  to  aid,  my 

gifts— 

240 


POSEIDON'S  LAW 

The  wide  and  windward-opening?  eye,  the  large  and  lav- 
ish hand, 
The  soul  that  cannot  tell  a  lie — except  upon  the  land!' 

In  dromond  and  in  catafract — wet,  wakeful,  windward- 
eyed — 

He  kept  Poseidon's  Law  intact  (his  ship  and  freight 
beside). 

But,  once  discharged  the  dromond's  hold,  the  bireme 
beached  once  more, 

Splendaciously  mendacious  rolled  the  Brass-bound  Man 
ashore. 

The  thranite  now  and  thalamite  are  pressures  low  and 
high, 

And  where  three  hundred  blades  bit  white  the  twin- 
propellers  ply: 

The  God  that  hailed,  the  keel  that  sailed,  are  changed 
beyond  recall. 

But  the  robust  and  Brass-bound  Man  he  is  not  changed 
at  all! 

From  Punt  returned,  from  Phormio's  Fleet,  from  Javan 

and  Gadire, 
He  strongly  occupies  the  seat  about  the  tavern  fire. 
And,  moist  with  much  Falernian  or  smoked  Massilian 

juice, 
Revenges  there  the  Brass-bound  Man  his  long-enforced 

truce ! 


241 


A  TRUTHFUL  SONG 

THE  Bricklayer: 
I  tell  this  tale,  which  is  strictly  true, 
Just  by  way  of  convincing  you 
How  very  little,  since  things  were  made, 
Things  have  altered  in  the  building  trade. 

A  year  ago,  come  the  middle  of  March, 
We  was  building  flats  near  the  Marble  Arch, 
When  a  thin  young  man  with  coal-black  hair 
Game  up  to  watch  us  working  there. 

Now  there  wasn't  a  trick  in  brick  or  stone 
That  this  young  man  hadn't  seen  or  known; 
Nor  there  wasn't  a  tool  from  trowel  to  maul 
But  this  young  man  could  use  'em  all! 

Then  up  and  spoke  the  plumbyers  bold. 
Which  was  laying  the  pipes  for  the  hot  and  cold; 
'  Since  you  with  us  have  made  so  free, 
WiU  you  kindly  say  what  your  name  might  be?' 

The  young  man  kindly  answered  them : 
'It  might  be  Lot  or  Methusalem, 
Or  it  might  be  Moses  (a  man  I  hate), 
Whereas  it  is  Pharaoh  surnamcd  the  Great. 

242 


A  TRUTHFUL  SONG 

'Your  glazing  is  new  and  your  plumbing's  strange, 
But  otherwise  I  perceive  no  change, 
And  in  less  than  a  month  if  you  do  as  I  bid 
I'd  learn  you  to  build  me  a  Pyramid!' 


The  Sailor: 

I  tell  this  tale,  which  is  stricter  true, 

Just  by  way  of  convincing  you 

How  very  little,  since  things  was  made, 

Things  have  altered  in  the  shipwright's  trade. 

In  Blackwall  Basin  yesterday 

A  China  barque  re-fitting  lay; 

When  a  fat  old  man  with  snow-white  hair 

Came  up  to  watch  us  working  there. 

Now  there  wasn't  a  knot  which  the  riggers  knew 
But  the  old  man  made  it — and  better  too; 
Nor  there  wasn't  a  sheet,  or  a  lift,  or  a  brace, 
But  the  old  man  knew  its  lead  and  place. 

Then  up  and  spake  the  caulkyers  bold. 

Which  was  packing  the  pump  in  the  after-hold; 

'Since  you  with  us  have  made  so  free. 

Will  you  kindly  tell  what  your  name  might  be? ' 

The  old  man  kindly  answered  them: 
'It  might  be  Japheth,  it  might  be  Shem, 
Or  it  might  be  Ham  (though  his  skin  was  dark). 
Whereas  it  is  Noah,  commanding  the  Ark. 

243 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

'Your  wheel  is  new  and  your  pumps  are  strange, 
But  otherwise  I  perceive  no  change, 
And  in  less  than  a  week,  if  she  did  not  ground, 
I'd  sail  this  hooker  the  wide  world  round!' 


Both: 

We  tell  these  tales,  which  are  strictest  true. 
Just  by  way  of  convincing  you, 
How  very  little,  since  things  w^as  made, 
Anything  alters  in  any  one's  trade. 


244 


A  SiMUGGLERS'  SONG 

IF  you  wake  at  midnight,  and  hear  a  horse's  feet, 
Don't  go  drawing  back  the  bUnd,  or  looking  in  the 
street. 
Them  that  ask  no  questions  isn't  told  a  He. 
Watch  the  wall,  my  darling,  while  the  Gentlemen  go  by ! 
Five  and  twenty  ponies, 
Trotting  through  the  dark — 
Brandy  for  the  Parson, 
'Baccy  for  the  Clerk; 
Laces  for  a  lady,  letters  for  a  spy, 
And  watch  the  wall,  my  darling,  while  the  Gentlemen 
go  by! 


Running  round  the  woodlump  if  you  chance  to  find 
Little  barrels,  roped  and  tarred,  all  full  of  brandy-wine. 
Don't  you  shout  to  come  and  look,  nor  use  'em  for  your 

play. 
Put  the  brishwood  back  again — and  they'll  be  gone  next 

day! 


If  you  see  the  stable-door  setting  open  wide; 
If  you  see  a  tired  horse  lying  down  inside; 
If  your  mother  mends  a  coat  cut  about  and  tore; 
If  the  lining's  wet  and  warm — don't  you  ask  no  more! 

245 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

If  you  meet  King  George's  men,  dressed  in  blue  and  red, 
You  be  careful  what  you  say,  and  mindful  what  is  said. 
I  f  they  call  you  '  pretty  maid, '  and  chuck  you  'neath  the 

chin, 
Don't  you  tell  where  no  one  is,  nor  yet  where  no  one's 

beenl 


Knocks  and  footsteps  round  the  house — whistles  after 

dark — 
You've  no  call  for  running  out  till  the  house-dogs  bark. 
Trusty's  here,  and  Pincher's  here,  and  see  how  dumb 

they  he — 
They  don't  fret  to  follow  when  the  Gentlemen  go  by! 


If  you  do  as  you've  been  told,  'hkely  there's  a  chance. 
You'll  be  give  a  dainty  doll,  all  the  way  from  France, 
With  a  cap  of  Valenciennes,  and  a  velvet  hood — 
A  present  from  the  Gentlemen,  along  o'  being  good! 

Five  and  twenty  ponies. 

Trotting  through  the  dark, 

Brandy  for  the  Parson, 

'Baccy  for  the  Clerk. 
Them  that  asks  no  questions  isn't  told  a  lie — 
Watch  the  wall,  my  darling,  while  the  Gentlemen  go  by ! 


246 


KING  HENRY  VII.   AND  THE  SHIPWRIGHTS 

(A.D.  1487) 

HARRY,  our  King  in  England,  from  London  town 
is  gone, 
And  comen  to  Hamuli  on   the  Hoke  in  the 
countic  of  Suthampton. 
For  there  lay  'The  Mary  of  the  Tower,'  his  ship  of  war 

so  strong, 
And  he  would  discover,  certaynely,  if  his  shipwrights  did 
him  wrong. 

I  Ic  told  not  none  of  his  setting  forth,  nor  yet  where  he 

would  go, 
(But  only  my  Lord  of  Arundel),  and  meanly  did  he  show, 
In  an  old  jerkin  and  patched  hose  that  no  man  might 

him  mark. 
With  his  frieze  hood  and  cloak  above,  he  looked  like  any 

clerk. 

He  was  at  Hamuli  on  the  Hoke  about  the  hour  of  the 

tide, 
And  saw  the  '  Mary'  haled  into  dock,  the  winter  to  abide. 
With  all  her  tackle  and  habiliments  which  are  the  King 

his  own; 
But  then  ran  on  his  false  shipwrights  and  stripped  her 

to  the  bone. 

247 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

They  heaved  the  main-mast  overboard,  that  was  of  a 

trusty  tree, 
And  they  wrote  down  it  was  spent  and  lost  by  force  of 

weather  at  sea. 
But  they  sawen  it  into  planks  and  strakes  as  far  as  it 

might  go, 
To  maken  beds  for  their  own  wives  and  little  children  also. 

There  was  a  knave  called  Slingawai,  he  crope  beneath 

the  deck, 
Crying:  *Good  felawes,  come  and  see!     The  ship  is  nigh 

a  wreck! 
For  the  storm  that  took  our  tall  main-mast,  it  blew  so 

fierce  and  fell. 
Alack!  it  hath  taken  the  kettles  and  pans,  and  this  brass 

pott  as  well!' 

With  that  he  set  the  pott  on  his  head  and  hied  him  up 

the  hatch. 
While  all  the  shipwrights  ran  below  to  find  what  they 

might  snatch; 
All  except  Bob  Brygandyne  and  he  was  a  yeoman  good, 
He  caught  Slingawai  round  the  waist  and  threw  him  on 

to  the  mud. 

'  I  have  taken  plank  and  rope  and  nail,  without  the  King 

his  leave. 
After  the  custom  of  Portesmouth,  but  I  will  not  suffer  a 

thief. 
Nay,  never  lift  up  thy  hand  at  me!    There's  no  clean 

hands  in  the  trade — 
Steal  in  measure,'  quo'  Brygandyne.     'There's  measure 

in  all  things  made!' 

248 


KING  HENRY  VII.  AND  THE  SHIPWRIGHTS 

'Gramercy,  yeoman!'   said   our  King.     'Thy  counsel 

liketh  me.' 
And  he  pulled  a  whistle  out  of  his  neck  and  whistled 

whistles  three. 
Then  came  my  Lord  of  Arundel  pricking  across  the 

down, 
And  behind  him  the  Mayor  and  Burgesses  of  merry 

Suthampton  town. 

They  drew  the  naughty  shipwrights  up,  with  the  kettles 

in  their  hands, 
And  bound  them  round  the  forecastle  to  wait  the  King's 

commands. 
But  'Since  ye  have  made  your  beds,'  said  the  King,  'ye 

needs  must  lie  thereon. 
For  the  sake  of  your  wives  and  little  ones — felawes,  get 

you  gone!' 

When  they  had  beaten  Slingawai,  out  of  his  own  lips, 
Our  King  appointed  Brygandyne  to  be  Clerk  of  all  his 

ships. 
'Nay,  never  lift  up  thy  hands  to  me — there's  no  clean 

hands  in  the  trade. 
But  steal  in  measure,'  said  Harry  our  King.     'There's 

measure  in  all  things  made!' 

God  speed  the  'Mary  of  the  Tower,'  the  'Sovereign'  and 

'Grace  Dieu,' 
The  'Sweepstakes'  and  the  'Mary  Fortune,'  and  the 

'Henry  of  Bristol'  too! 
All  tall  ships  that  sail  on  the  sea,  or  in  our  harbours 

stand. 
That  they  may  keep  measure  with  Harry  our  King  and 
peace  in  Engeland! 

249 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MACHINES 

WE  were  taken  from  the  ore-bed  and  the  mine, 
We  were  melted  in  the  furnace  and  the  pit — 
We  were  cast  and  wrought  and  hammered 
to  design, 
We  were  cut  and  filed  and  tooled  and  gauged  to  fit. 
Some  water,  coal,  and  oil  is  all  we  ask. 

And  a  thousandth  of  an  inch  to  give  us  play, 
And  now  if  you  will  set  us  to  our  task, 

We  will  serve  you  four-and-twenty  hours  a  day! 


We  can  pull  and  haul  and  push  and  lift  and  drive. 
We  can  print  and  plough  and  weave  and  heat  and 

light. 
We  can  run  and  jump  and  swim  and  fly  and  dive, 
We  can  see  and  hear  and  count  and  read  and  write! 


Would  you  call  a  friend  from  half  across  the  world? 

If  you'll  let  us  have  his  name  and  town  and  state, 
You  shall  see  and  hear  your  crackling  question  hurled 

Across  the  arch  of  heaven  while  you  wait. 
Has  he  answered?     Does  he  need  you  at  his  side? 

You  can  start  this  very  evening  if  you  choose. 
And  take  the  Western  Ocean  in  the  stride 

Of  thirty  thousand  horses  and  some  screws! 

250 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MACHINES 

The  boat-express  is  waiting  your  command ! 
You  will  fmd  the  '  Mauretania '  at  the  quay. 
Till  her  captain  turns  the  lever  'neath  his  hand, 
And  the  monstrous  nine-decked  city  goes  to  sea. 

Do  you  wish  to  make  the  mountains  bare  their  head 

And  lay  their  new-cut  forests  at  your  feet? 
Do  you  want  to  turn  a  river  in  its  bed, 

And  plant  a  barren  wilderness  with  wheat? 
Shall  we  pipe  aloft  and  bring  you  water  down 

From  the  never-failing  cisterns  of  the  Snows, 
To  work  the  mills  and  tramways  in  your  town, 

And  irrigate  your  orchards  as  it  flows? 

It  is  easy!     Give  us  dynamite  and  drills! 

Watch   the  iron-shouldered   rocks   lie  down   and 

quake 
As  the  thirsty  desert-level  floods  and  fills, 
And  the  valley  we  have  dammed  becomes  a  lake! 

But  remember,  please,  the  Law  by  which  we  live, 

We  are  not  built  to  comprehend  a  lie. 
We  can  neither  love  nor  pity  nor  forgive. 

If  you  make  a  slip  in  handling  us  you  die! 
We  are  greater  than  the  Peoples  or  the  Kings — 

Be  humble,  as  you  crawl  beneath  our  rods! — 
Our  touch  can  alter  all  created  things, 

We  are  everything  on  earth — except  The  Gods! 

Though  our  smoke  may  hide  the  Heavens  from 

your  eyes. 
It  will  vanish  and  the  stars  will  shine  again. 
Because,  for  all  our  power  and  weight  and  size. 
We  are  nothing  more  than  children  of  your  brain ! 

251 


THE  WET  LITANY 

WHEN  the  water's  countenance 
Blurrs  'twixt  glance  and  second  glance; 
When  our  tattered  smokes  forerun, 
Ashen  'neath  a  silvered  sun; 
When  the  curtain  of  the  haze 
Shuts  upon  our  helpless  ways — 
Hear  the  Channel  Fleet  at  sea; 
Libera  nos  Domine! 

When  the  engines'  bated  pulse 
Scarcely  thrills  the  nosing  hulls; 
When  the  wash  along  the  side 
Sounds,  a  sudden,  magnified; 
When  the  intolerable  blast 
Marks  each  blindfold  minute  passed; 

When  the  fog-buoy's  squattering  flight 
Guides  us  through  the  haggard  night; 
When  the  warning  bugle  blows; 
When  the  lettered  doorways  close; 
When  our  brittle  townships  press, 
Impotent,  on  emptiness; 

When  the  unseen  leadsmen  lean 
Questioning  a  deep  unseen; 

252 


THE  WET  LITANY 

When  their  lessened  count  they  tell 
To  a  bridge  invisible; 
When  the  hid  and  perilous 
Cliffs  return  our  cry  to  us; 

When  the  treble  thickness  spread 
Swallows  up  our  next-ahead; 
,When  her  siren's  frightened  whine 
Shows  her  sheering  out  of  line; 
When,  her  passage  undiscerned, 
We  must  turn  where  she  has  turned, 

Hear  the  Channel  Fleet  at  sea; 

Libera  nos  Domine! 


253 


BIG  STEAMERS 

OH,  where  are  you  going  to,  all  you  Big  Steamers, 
With  England's  own  coal,  up  and  down  the 
salt  seas?' 
'  We  are  going  to  fetch  you  your  bread  and  your  butter, 
Your  beef,  pork,  and  mutton, eggs,  apples, and  cheese.' 

'And  where  will  you  fetch  it  from,  all  you  Big  Steamers, 
And  where  shall  I  write  you  when  you  are  away?' 

'  We  fetch  it  from  Melbourne,  Quebec,  and  Vancouver, 
Address  us  at  Hobart,  Hong-Kong,  and  Bombay.' 

'But  if  anything  happened  to  all  you  Big  Steamers, 
And  suppose  you  were  wrecked  up  and  down  the  salt 
sea?' 

'  Why  you'd  have  no  colYee  or  bacon  for  breakfast, 
And  you'd  have  no  muffms  or  toast  for  your  tea.' 

'  rhen  I'll  pray  for  fine  weather  for  all  you  Big  Steamers, 
For  little  blue  billows  and  breezes  so  soft.' 

'Oh,  billows  and  breezes  don't  bother  Big  Steamers, 
For  we're  iron  below  and  steel-rigging  aloft.' 

'  Then  I'll  build  a  new  lighthouse  for  all  you  Big  Steamers, 
With  plenty  wise  pilots  to  pilot  you  through.' 

'Oh,  tlie  Channel's  as  bright  as  a  ball-room  already, 
And  pilots  are  thicker  than  pilchards  at  Looe.' 

251 


BIG  STEAMERS 

'Then  what  can  I  do  for  you,  all  you  Big  Steamers, 
Oh,  what  can  I  do  for  your  comfort  and  good?' 

'Send  out  your  big  warships  to  watch  your  big  waters. 
That  no  one  may  stop  us  from  bringing  you  food. 

'For  the  bread  that  you  eat  and  the  biscuits  you  nibble, 
The  sweets  that  you  suck  and  the  joints  that  you 
carve, 

They  are  brought  to  you  daily  by  all  us  Big  Steamers, 
And  if  any  one  hinders  our  coming  you'll  starve!' 


255 


THE  BALLAD  OF  MINEPIT  SHAW 


A 


BOUT  the  time  that  taverns  shut 
And  men  can  buy  no  beer. 
Two  lads  went  up  by  the  keepers'  hut 
To  steal  Lord  Pelham's  deer. 


Night  and  the  liquor  was  in  their  heads — 
They  laughed  and  talked  no  bounds, 

Till  they  waked  the  keepers  on  their  beds 
And  the  keepers  loosed  the  hounds. 

They  had  killed  a  hart,  they  had  killed  a  hind, 

Ready  to  carry  away, 
When  they  heard  a  whimper  down  the  wind 

And  they  heard  a  bloodhound  bay. 

They  took  and  ran  amongst  the  fern. 

Their  crossbows  in  their  hand. 
Till  they  met  a  man  with  a  green  lantern 

That  called  and  bade  'em  stand. 

*  What  are  ye  doing,  0  Flesh  and  Blood, 

And  what's  your  foolish  will, 
That  you  must  break  into  Minepit  Wood 

And  wake  the  Folk  of  the  Hill?' 

256 


THE  BALLAD  OF  MINEPIT  SHAW 

'  Oh,  we've  broke  into  Lord  Pelham's  park, 

And  killed  Lord  Pelham's  deer, 
And  if  ever  you  heard  a  little  dog  bark 

You'll  know  why  we  come  here. 

*  We  ask  you  let  us  go  our  way, 

As  fast  as  we  can  flee, 
For  if  ever  you  heard  a  bloodhound  bay 

You'll  know  how  pressed  we  be.' 

*0h,  lay  your  crossbows  on  the  bank 
And  drop  the  knife  from  your  hand. 

And  though  the  hounds  are  at  your  flank 
I'll  save  you  where  you  stand!' 

They  laid  their  crossbows  on  the  bank. 
They  threw  their  knives  in  the  wood, 

And  the  ground  before  them  opened  and  sank 
And  saved  'em  where  they  stood. 

*0h,  what's  the  roaring  in  our  ears 
That  strikes  us  well-nigh  dumb?' 

'Oh,  that  is  just  how  things  appears 
According  as  they  come.' 

'What  are  the  stars  before  our  eyes 
That  strike  us  well-nigh  blind?' 

'Oh,  that  is  just  how  things  arise 
According  as  you  find.' 

'And  why's  our  bed  so  hard  to  the  bones 

Excepting  where  it's  cold?' 
'Oh,  that's  because  it  is  precious  stones 

Excepting  where  'tis  gold. 

257 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

'Think  it  over  as  you  stand, 

For  I  tell  you  without  fail, 
If  you  haven't  got  into  Fairyland 

You're  not  in  Lewes  Gaol.' 

All  night  long  they  thought  of  it, 

And,  come  the  dawn,  they  saw 
They'd  tumbled  into  a  great  old  pit, 

At  the  bottom  of  Minepit  Shaw. 

And  the  keepers'  hound  had  followed  'em  close, 

And  broke  her  neck  in  the  fall; 
So  they  picked  up  their  knives  and  their  crossbows 

And  buried  the  dog.     That's  all. 

But  whether  the  man  was  a  poacher  too 

Or  a  Pharisee^  so  bold — 
I  reckon  there's  more  things  told  than  are  true. 

And  more  things  true  than  are  told! 

^A  fairy. 


258 


•w 


HERIOT'S  FORD 

HAT'S  that  that  hirples  at  my  side?' 

The  foe  that  you  must  fight,  my  lord. 
*That  rides  as  fast  as  I  can  ride?' 

The  shadow  of  your  might,  my  lord. 


Then  wheel  my  horse  against  the  foe!' 

He's  down  and  overpast,  my  lord. 
You  war  against  the  sunset  glow, 
The  judgment  follows  fast,  my  lord. 

'Oh  who  will  stay  the  sun's  descent?' 
King  Joshua  he  is  dead,  my  lord. 

'I  need  an  hour  to  repent!' 

'Tis  what  our  sister  said,  my  lord. 

'Oh  do  not  slay  me  in  my  sins!' 
You're  safe  awhile  with  us,  my  lord. 

'Nay,  kill  me  ere  my  fear  begins!' 

We  would  not  serve  you  thus,  my  lord. 

'Where  is  the  doom  that  I  must  face?' 
Three  little  leagues  away,  my  lord. 

'Then  mend  the  horses'  laggard  pace!' 
We  need  them  for  next  day,  my  lord. 

259 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

'Next  day — next  day!     Unloose  my  cords!' 
Our  sister  needed  none,  my  lord. 

You  have  no  mind  to  face  our  swords, 
And — where  can  cowards  run,  my  lord? 

'You  would  not  kill  the  soul  alive?' 
'Twas  thus  our  sister  cried,  my  lord. 

'  I  dare  not  die  with  none  to  shrive,' 
But  so  our  sister  died,  my  lord. 

'Then  wipe  the  sweat  from  brow  and  cheek,' 
It  runnels  forth  afresh,  my  lord. 

'  Uphold  me — for  the  flesh  is  weak.' 
You've  finished  with  the  Flesh,  my  lord. 


260 


FRANKIE'S  TRADE 

OLD  Horn  to  All  Atlantic  said : 
(A-hayO!     TomeO!) 
*Now  where  did  Frankie  learn  his  trade? 
For  he  ran  me  down  with  a  three-reef  mains*le.' 
(All  round  the  Horn!) 

Atlantic  answered: — 'Not  from  me! 
You'd  better  ask  the  cold  North  Sea, 
For  he  ran  me  down  under  all  plain  canvas.' 
(All  round  the  Horn!) 

The  North  Sea  answered: — 'He's  my  man, 
For  he  came  to  me  when  he  began — 
Frankie  Drake  in  an  open  coaster.' 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

'  I  caught  him  young  and  I  used  him  sore, 
So  you  never  shall  startle  Frankie  more, 
Without  capsizing  Earth  and  her  waters.' 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

'  I  did  not  favour  him  at  all. 
I  made  him  pull  and  I  made  him  haul — 
And  stand  his  trick  with  the  common  sailors. 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 
261 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

*  I  froze  him  stiff  and  I  fogged  him  bhnd, 
And  kicked  him  home  with  his  road  to  fmd 
By  what  he  could  see  in  a  three-day  snow-storm. 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

'  I  learned  him  his  trade  o '  winter  nights, 
'Twixt  Mardyk  Fort  and  Dunkirk  lights 
On  a  five-knot  tide  with  the  forts  a-firing. 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

'Before  his  beard  began  to  shoot, 
I  showed  him  the  length  of  the  Spaniard's  foot — 
And  I  reckon  he  clapped  the  boot  on  it  later. 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

'If  there's  a  risk  which  you  can  make. 
That's  worse  than  he  was  used  to  take 
Nigh  every  week  in  the  way  of  his  business; 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

'  If  there's  a  trick  that  you  can  try, 
Which  he  hasn't  met  in  time  gone  by. 
Not  once  or  twice,  but  ten  times  over; 
(All  round  the  Sands!) 

*If  you  can  teach  him  aught  that's  new, 

(A-hayO!    To  me  0!) 
I'll  give  you  Bruges  and  Niewport  too, 
And  the  ten  tall  churches  that  stand  between  'em,' 

Storm  along,  my  gallant  Captains! 

(All  round  the  Horn !) 


262 


WITH  DRAKE  IN  THE  TROPICS 

SOUTH  and  far  south  below  the  Line, 
Our  Admiral  leads  us  on, 
Above,  undreamed-of  planets  shine — 
The  stars  we  knew  are  gone. 
Around,  our  clustered  seamen  mark 

The  silent  deep  ablaze 
With  fires,  through  which  the  far-down  shark 
Shoots  glimmering  on  his  ways. 

The  sultry  tropic  breezes  fail 

That  plagued  us  all  day  through; 
Like  molten  silver  hangs  our  sail. 

Our  decks  are  dark  with  dew. 
Now  the  rank  moon  commands  the  sky, 

Ho!     Bid  the  watch  beware 
x\nd  rouse  all  sleeping  men  that  lie 

Unsheltered  in  her  glare. 

How  long  the  time  'twixt  bell  and  bell! 

How  still  our  lanthorns  burn! 
How  strange  our  whispered  words  that  tell 

Of  England  and  return! 
Old  towns,  old  streets,  old  friends,  old  loves, 

We  name  them  each  to  each. 
While  the  lit  face  of  Heaven  removes 

Them  farther  from  our  reach. 
2C)3 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Now  is  the  utmost  ebb  of  night 

When  mind  and  body  sink, 
And  loneliness  and  gathering  fright 

O'erwhelm  us,  if  we  think — 
Yet,  look,  where  in  his  room  apart, 

All  windows  opened  wide. 
Our  Admiral  thrusts  away  the  chart 

And  comes  to  walk  outside. 

Kindly,  from  man  to  man  he  goes, 

With  comfort,  praise,  or  jest. 
Quick  to  suspect  our  childish  woes. 

Our  terror  and  unrest. 
It  is  as  though  the  sun  should  shine — 

Our  midnight  fears  are  gone! 
South  and  far  south  below  the  Line 

Our  Admiral  leads  us  on! 


264 


THE  JUGGLER'S  SONG 

WHEN  the  drums  begin  to  beat 
Down  the  street, 
When  the  poles  are  fetched  and  guyed, 
When  the  tight-rope's  stretched  and  tied, 
When  the  dance-girls  make  salaam, 
When  the  snake-bag  wakes  alarm, 
When  the  pipes  set  up  their  drone. 
When  the  sharp-edged  knives  are  thrown, 
When  the  red-hot  coals  are  shown, 
To  be  swallowed  by  and  by — 
Arre  Brethren,  here  come  I ! 

Stripped  to  loin-cloth  in  the  sun 
Search  me  well  and  watch  me  close ! 
Tell  me  how  my  tricks  are  done — 
Tell  me  how  the  mango  grows? 

Give  a  man  who  is  not  made 
To  his  trade 

Swords  to  fling  and  catch  again, 
Coins  to  ring  and  snatch  again. 
Men  to  harm  and  cure  again. 
Snakes  to  charm  and  lure  again — 
He'll  be  hurt  by  his  own  blade, 
By  his  serpents  disobeyed, 
By  his  clumsiness  bewrayed, 

265 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

By  the  people  laughed  to  scorn. 
So  'tis  not  with  juggler  born! 
Pinch  of  dust  or  withered  flower, 
Chance-flung  nut  or  borrowed  staff, 
Serve  his  need  and  shore  his  power, 
Bind  the  spell  or  loose  the  laugh! 


266 


THORKILD'S  SONG 

THERE'S  no  wind  along  these  seas, 
Out  oars  for  Stavanger! 
Forward  all  for  Stavanger! 
So  we  must  wake  the  white-ash  breeze, 
Let  fall  for  Stavanger! 
A  long  pull  for  Stavanger! 

Oh,  hear  the  benches  creak  and  strain! 

(A  long  pull  for  Stavanger!) 
She  thinks  she  smells  the  Northland  rain ! 

(A  long  pull  for  Stavanger!) 

She  thinks  she  smells  the  Northland  snow. 
And  she's  as  glad  as  we  to  go. 

She  thinks  she  smells  the  Northland  rime. 
And  the  dear  dark  nights  of  winter-time. 

She  wants  to  be  at  her  own  home  pier, 
To  shift  her  sails  and  standing  gear. 

She  wants  to  be  in  her  winter-shed, 
To  strip  herself  and  go  to  bed. 

Her  very  bolts  are  sick  for  shore, 
And  we — we  want  it  ten  times  more ! 
267 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

So  all  you  Gods  that  love  brave  men, 
Send  us  a  three-reef  gale  again ! 

Send  us  a  gale,  and  watch  us  come, 
With  close-cropped  canvas  slashing  home! 

But — there's  no  wind  on  all  these  seas, 

A  long  pull  for  Stavanger! 
So  we  must  wake  the  white-ash  breeze, 

A  long  pull  for  Stavanger! 


268 


*ANGUTIVAUN  TAIN  A' 

Song  of  the  Returning  Hunter  (Esquimaux) 


O 


UR  gloves  are  stiff  with  the  frozen  blood. 
Our  furs  with  the  drifted  snow, 
As  we  come  in  with  the  seal — the  seal! 
In  from  the  edge  of  the  floe. 


Au  jana!  Aua!  Oha!  Haq! 

And  the  yelping  dog-teams  go, 
And  the  long  whips  crack,  and  the  men  come  back. 

Back  from  the  edge  of  the  floe! 

We  tracked  our  seal  to  his  secret  place,  ^ 

We  heard  him  scratch  below, 
We  made  our  mark,  and  we  watched  beside, 

Out  on  the  edge  of  the  floe. 

We  raised  our  lance  when  he  rose  to  breathe, 

We  drove  it  downward — so! 
And  we  played  him  thus,  and  we  kiUed  him  thus. 

Out  on  the  edge  of  the  floe. 

Our  gloves  are  glued  with  the  frozen  blood, 

Our  eyes  with  the  drifting  snow; 
But  we  come  back  to  our  wives  again, 

Back  from  the  edge  of  the  floe ! 

269 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Au  jana!  Aua!  Oha!  Haq! 

And  the  loaded  dog-teams  go, 
And  the  wives  can  hear  their  men  come  back, 

Back  from  the  edge  of  the  floe! 


270 


SONG  OF  THE  MEN'S  SIDE 
(Neolithic) 

ONCE  we  feared  The  Beast — when  he  followed  us 
we  ran, 
Ran  very  fast  though  we  knew 
It  was  not  right  that  The  Beast  should  master  Man; 

But  what  could  we  Flint-workers  do? 
The  Beast  only  grinned  at  our  spears  round  his  ears — 

Grinned  at  the  hammers  that  we  made; 
But  now  we  will  hunt  him  for  the  life  with  the  Knife- 
And  this  is  the  Buyer  of  the  Blade! 

Room  for  his  shadow  on  the  grass — let  it  pass! 

To  left  and  right — stand  clear! 
This  is  the  Buyer  of  the  Blade — be  afraid! 

This  is  the  great  god  Tyr! 

Tyr  thought  hard  till  he  hammered  out  a  plan, 

For  he  knew  it  was  not  right 
(And  it  is  not  right)  that  The  Beast  should  master  Man ; 

So  he  went  to  the  Children  of  the  Night. 
He  begged  a  Magic  Knife  of  their  make  for  our  sake. 

When  he  begged  for  the  Knife  they  said : 
'The  price  of  the  Knife  you  would  buy  is  an  eye!' 

And  that  was  the  price  he  paid. 

271 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Tell  it  to  the  Barrows  of  the  Dead — run  ahead! 

Shout  it  so  the  Women's  Side  can  hear! 
This  is  the  Buyer  of  the  Blade — be  afraid! 

This  is  the  great  god  Tyr! 

Our  women  and  our  little  ones  may  walk  on  the  Chalk, 

As  far  as  we  can  see  them  and  beyond. 
We  shall  not  be  anxious  for  our  sheep  when  we  keep 

Tally  at  the  shearing-pond. 
We  can  eat  with  both  our  elbows  on  our  knees,  if  we 
please, 

We  can  sleep  after  meals  in  the  sun; 
For  Shepherd  of  the  Twilight  is  dismayed  at  the  Blade, 

Feet-in-the-Night  have  run! 
Dog-without-a-Master  goes  away  (Hai,  Tyr  aie!), 

Devil-in-the-Dusk  has  run! 


Then : 

Room  for  his  shadow  on  the  grass — let  it  pass! 

To  left  and  right — stand  clear! 
This  is  the  Buyer  of  the  Blade — be  afraid! 

This  is  the  great  god  Tyr ! 


272 


DARZEE'S  CHAUNT 

(Sung  in  honour  of  Rikki-tikki-tavi) 


S 


INGER  and  tailor  am  I — 

Doubled  the  joys  that  I  know — 
Proud  of  my  lilt  to  the  sky, 
Proud  of  the  house  that  I  sew — 
Over  and  under,  so  weave  I  my  music — so  weave  I  the 
house  that  I  sew. 

Sing  to  your  fledglings  again, 

Mother,  0  lift  up  your  head ! 
Evil  that  plagued  us  is  slain. 
Death  in  the  garden  lies  dead. 
Terror  that  hid  in  the  roses  is  impotent — flung  on  the 
dunghill  and  dead! 

Who  hath  delivered  us,  who? 

Tell  me  his  nest  and  his  name. 
Rikki,  the  vahant,  the  true, 
Tikki,  with  eyeballs  of  flame, 
Rik-tikki-tikki,  the  ivory-fanged,  the  hunter  with  eye- 
balls of  flame. 

Give  him  the  Thanks  of  the  Birds, 
Bowing  with  tail-feathers  spread! 
273 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

Praise  him  with  nightingale-words — 
Nay,  I  will  praise  him  instead. 
Hear!     I  will  sing  you  the  praise  of  the  bottle-tailed 
Rikki,  with  eyeballs  of  red! 

(Here  Rikki-tikki  interrupted,  and  the  rest  of  the  song 
is  lost.) 


274 


K 


THE  FOUR  ANGELS 

S  Adam  lay  a-dreaming  beneath  the  Apple  Tree 
The  Angel  of  the  Earth  came  down,  and  offered 
Earth  in  fee. 
But  Adam  did  not  need  it, 
Nor  the  plough  he  would  not  speed  it, 
Singing : — '  Earth  and  Water,  Air  and  Fire, 

What  more  can  mortal  man  desire?' 
(The  Apple  Tree's  in  bud.) 


As  Adam  lay  a-dreaming  beneath  the  Apple  Tree 
The  Angel  of  the  Waters  oiTered  all  the  Seas  in  fee. 
But  Adam  would  not  take  'em. 
Nor  the  ships  he  wouldn't  make  'em, 
Singing: — 'Water,  Earth  and  Air  and  Fire, 

What  more  can  mortal  man  desire?' 
(The  Apple  Tree's  in  leaf.) 


As  Adam  lay  a-dreaming  beneath  the  Apple  Tree 
The  Angel  of  the  Air  he  offered  all  the  Air  in  fee. 
But  Adam  did  not  crave  it. 
Nor  the  flight  he  wouldn't  brave  it, 
Singing: — 'Air  and  Water,  Earth  and  Fire, 

What  more  can  mortal  man  desire?' 
(The  Apple  Tree's  in  bloom.) 
275 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

As  Adam  lay  a-dreaming  beneath  the  Apple  Tree 
The  Angel  of  the  Fire  rose  up  and  not  a  word  said  he. 
But  he  wished  a  flame  and  made  it, 
And  in  Adam's  heart  he  laid  it, 
Singing: — 'Fire,  Fire,  burning  Fire, 

Stand  up  and  reach  your  heart's  desire!' 
(The  Apple  Blossom's  set.) 


As  Adam  was  a-working  outside  of  Eden- Wall, 
He  used  the  Earth,  he  used  the  Seas,  he  used  the  Air  and 
all; 

And  out  of  black  disaster 
He  arose  to  be  the  master 

Of  Earth  and  Water,  Air  and  Fire, 
But  never  reached  his  heart's  desire! 
(The  Apple  Tree's  cut  down!) 


276 


o 


THE  GLORY  OF  THE  GARDEN 

UR  England  is  a  garden  that  is  full  of  stately  views. 
Of  borders,  beds  and  shrubberies  and  lawns  and 


avenues, 

With  statues  on  the  terraces  and  peacocks  strutting  by; 
But  the  Glory  of  the  Garden  lies  in  more  than  meets  the 
eye. 

For  where  the  old  thick  laurels  grow,  along  the  thin  red 

wall, 
You'll  find  the  tool-  and  potting-sheds  which  are  the 

heart  of  all — 
The  cold-frames  and  the  hot-houses,  the  dungpits  and 

the  tanks. 
The  rollers,  carts  and  drain-pipes,  with  the  barrows  and 

the  planks. 

And  there  you'll  see  the  gardeners,  the  men  and  'pren- 
tice boys 

Told  off  to  do  as  they  are  bid  and  do  it  without  noise; 

For,  except  when  seeds  are  planted  and  we  shout  to 
scare  the  birds, 

The  Glory  of  the  Garden  it  abideth  not  in  words. 

And  some  can  pot  begonias  and  some  can  bud  a  rose, 
And  some  are  hardly  fit  to  trust  with  anything  that 
grows ; 

277 


SONGS  FROM  BOOKS 

But  they  can  roll  and  trim  the  lawns  and  sift  the  sand 

and  loam, 
For  the  Glory  of  the  Garden  occupieth  all  who  come. 

Our  England  is  a  garden,  and  such  gardens  are  not  made 

By  singing: — 'Oh,  how  beautiful,'  and  sitting  in  the 
shade. 

While  better  men  than  we  go  out  and  start  their  working 
lives 

At  grubbing  weeds  from  gravel-paths  with  broken  din- 
ner-knives. 

There's  not  a  pair  of  legs  so  thin,  there's  not  a  head  so 

thick, 
There's  not  a  hand  so  weak  and  white,  nor  yet  a  hearl 

so  sick. 
But  it  can  fmd  some  needful  job  that's  crying  to  be  done, 
For  the  Glory  of  the  Garden  glorifieth  every  one. 

Then  seek  your  job  with  thankfulness  and  work  till 
further  orders. 

If  it's  only  netting  strawberries  or  kilhng  slugs  on  bor- 
ders; 

And  when  your  back  stops  aching  and  your  hands  begin 
to  harden. 

You  will  fmd  yourself  a  partner  in  the  Glory  of  the 
Garden. 

Oh,  Adam  was  a  gardener,  and  God  Who  made  him  sees 
That  half  a  proper  gardener's  work  is  done  upon  his  knees, 
So  when  your  work  is  finished,  you  can  wash  your  hands 

and  pray 
For  the  Glory  of  the  Garden  that  it  may  not  pass  away! 
And  the  Glory  of  the  Garden  it  shall  never  pass  away! 

278 


THE  PRAYER 

Y  brother  kneels,  so  saith  Kabir, 

To  stone  and  brass  in  heathen-wise, 
But  in  my  brother's  voice  I  hear 
My  own  unanswered  agonies. 
His  God  is  as  his  fates  assign, 
His  prayer  is  all  the  world's — and  mine! 


M 


THE    END 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN 
AND  PARODIES 


TO  THE  SEVEN  WATCHMEN 

SEVEN  watchmen  sitting  in  a  tower. 
Watching  what  had  come  upon  mankind, 
Showed  the  Man  the  Gloiy  and  the  Power, 
And  bade  him  shape  the  Kingdom  to  his  mind. 
*  All  things  on  Earth  your  will  shall  win  you,* 

('Twas  so  their  counsel  ran) 
•But  the  Kingdom — the  Kingdom  is  within  you,* 
Said  the  Man's  own  mind  to  the  Man. 

For  time,  and  some  time — 
As  it  was  in  the  bitter  years  before 

So  it  shall  be  in  the  over-sweetened  hour — 
That  a  man's  mind  is  wont  to  tell  him  more 
Than  Seven  Watchmen  sitting  in  a  tower. 


CONTENTS 


PAGF 


Advertisement,  The 118 

Beginner,  The 130 

Benefactors,  The 73 

Bother,  The 132 

Braggart,  The 122 

Carmen  Circulare 117 

Choice,  The 28 

'City  of  Brass,  The' 107 

Contradictions 128 

Covenant,  The 12 

Craftsman,  The 69 

Dead  King,  The 76 

Death-bed,  A 80 

Declaration  of  London,  The 7 

Dying  Chauffeur,  The 134 

En-dor 42 

Epitaphs ,      ,  99 

Fastness  .129 

Female  of  the  Species,  The 95 

'For  All  We  Have  and  Are' 16 

France 13 

Gehazi 82 

Gethsemane 65 

Holy  War,  The 30 


CONTENTS 

PACE 

Houses,  The 33 

Hyaenas,  The 52 

Idiot  Boy,  The 126 

Inventor,  The 135 

Irish  Guards,  The 37 

Justice 112 

Justice's  Tale,  The 119 

Lady  Gcraldine's  Hardship 131 

Landau,  The 127 

lx)rd  Roberts 24 

Marred  Drives  of  Windsor,  The,  Act  II,  Scene  III  138 

Marred  Drives  of  Windsor,  The,  Act  III,  Scene  I  145 

Mary's  Son 61 

Mesopotamia 50 

My  Boy  Jack 47 

Nativity,  A 40 

Natural  Theology 90 

Oldest  Song,  The 89 

Outlaws,  The 20 

Pilgrim's  Way,  A 86 

Pro-consuls,  The 66 

Progress  of  the  Spark  (XVIth  Circuit),  The  .      .  121 

Question,  The 26 

Recantation,  A 44 

Rowers,  The 3 

Russia  to  the  Pacifists 34 

Song  at  Cock-crow,  A 93 

Song  in  Storm,  A 18 

Song  of  the  Lathes,  The 62 

Song  of  the  Motor,  The        137 

Sons  of  Martha,  The 58 

Spies'  March,  The 54 

Things  and  the  Man 71 


CONTENTS 


PACE 


To  a  Lady,  Persuading  Her  to  a  Car    .     .     .  120 

To  Motorists 124 

Tour,  The 125 

Ulster         9 

Verdicts,  The 48 

Veterans,  The 6 

Virginity,  The 84 

'When  the  Journey  Was  Intended  lo  the  City'    .  123 

Zion 22 


INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES 


PAGE 


Across  a  world  where  all  men  grieve       .            .      .  112 

A.    *I  was  a  "have."'     B.    'I  was  a  "have-not"'  99 

After  the  burial  parties  leave 52 

Ah  !     What  avails  the  classic  bent 73 

A  tinker  out  of  Bedford 30 

Be  well  assured  that  on  our  side IS 

Brethren,  how  shall  it  fare  with  me      ....  26 

Broke  to  every  known  mischance,  lifted  over  all.  13 

Dellius,  that  car  which,  so  they  say     ....  117 

Falstaff — Here's  all  at  an  end  between  us       .      .  138 

For  all  we  have  and  are             16 

God  rest  you,  peaceful  gentlemen,  let  nothing  you 

dismay 34 

Hastily  Adam  our  driver  swallowed  a  curse  in  the 

darkness 132 

'Have  you  news  of  my  boy  Jack?' 47 

He  passed  in  the  very  battle-smoke     ....  24 

He  wandered  down  the  mountain  grade    .      .      .  126 

I  ate  my  fill  of  a  whale  that  died 90 

I  do  not  look  for  holy  saints  to  guide  me  on  my  way  86 

If  you  stop  to  fmd  out  what  your  wages  will  be  .  61 


INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES 


PAGS 


In  a  land  thai  the  sand  overlays — the  ways  to  her 

gates  are  untrod 107 

I   turned — Heaven   knows   we   women   turn   too 

much 131 

Love's  fiery  chariot,  DeHa,  take 120 

Lo !     What  is  this  that  I  make — sudden,  supreme, 

unrehearsed — 130 

Not  in  the  thick  of  the  fight 48 

Oh  ye  who  hold  the  written  clue 71 

Once,  after  long-drawn  revel  at  The  Mermaid  69 

Petrolio,  vaunting  his  Mercedes'  power     .  122 
Prince — Where's  our  red  rear  lamp?    Where's 

Bardolph? 145 

Since  ye  distemper  and  defile 124 

The  Babe  was  laid  in  the  Manger 40 

The  banked  oars  fell  an  hundred  strong    ...  3 

The  dark  eleventh  hour 9 

The  Doorkeepers  of  Zion 22 

The  drowsy  carrier  sways 128 

The  fans  and  the  beltings  they  roar  round  me     .  62 

The  first  time  that  Peter  denied  his  Lord ...  93 

The  Garden  called  Gethsemane 65 

The  overfaithful  sword  returns  the  user  ....  66 
There  are  no  leaders  to  lead  us  to  honour,  and  yet 

without  leaders  we  sally 54 

There  was  a  landau  deep  and  wide      ....  127 

The  road  to  En-dor  is  easy  to  tread     ....  42 


INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES 

PAGB 

These  were  never  your  true  love's  eyes  ...  89 
The  Sons  of  Mary  seldom  bother,  for  they  have 

inherited  that  good  part 58 

They  shall  not  return  to  us,  the  resolute,  the  younfj  50 

Thirteen  as  twelve  my  Murray  always  took  .  125 

This  is  the  end  whereto  men  toiled      ....  129 

'This  is  the  State  above  the  Law' 80 

This  spark  now  set,  retarded,  yet  forbears      .  121 

Through  learned  and  laborious  years  ....  20 

Time  and  Space  decreed  his  lot 135 

To-day,  across  our  fathers'  graves 6 

To  the  Judge  of  Right  and  Wrong 28 

Try  as  he  will,  no  man  breaks  wholly  loose  .  .  84 
'Twixt  my  house  and  thy  house  the  pathway  is 

broad 33 

We're  not  so  old  in  the  Army  List 37 

We  thought  we  ranked  above  the  chance  of  ill    .  12 

We  were  all  one  heart  and  one  race      ....  7 

WTiat  boots  it  on  the  Gods  to  call?  ....  44 
Wheel  me  gently  to  the  garage,  since  my  car  and 

I  must  part — 134 

'Whence  comest  thou,  Gehazi' 82 

When  that  with  meat  and  drink  they  had  fulfilled  123 
When  the  Himalayan  peasant  meets  the  he-bear 

in  his  pride 95 

Whether  to  wander  through  straight  streets  strictly  118 

With  them  there  rode  a  lustie  Engineere  .  .  119 
Who  in  the  Realm  to-day  lays  down  dear  life  for  the 

sake  of  a  land  more  dear  ? 76 

You  mustn't  groom  an  Arab  with  a  file     .      .      .  137 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN 
AND  PARODIES 


THE  ROWERS 

1902 

(When  Germany  proposed  that  England  should  help 
her  in  a  naval  demonstration  to  collect  debts  from 
Venezuela.) 


T 


HE  banked  oars  fell  an  hundred  strong. 
And  backed  and  threshed  and  ground, 
But  bitter  was  the  rowers'  song 
As  they  brought  the  war-boat  round. 


They  had  no  heart  for  the  rally  and  roar 
That  makes  the  whale-bath  smoke — 

When  the  great  blades  cleave  and  hold  and  leave 
As  one  on  the  racing  stroke. 

They  sang: — 'What  reckoning  do  you  keep, 

And  steer  by  her  what  star, 
If  we  come  unscathed  from  the  Southern  deep 

To  be  wrecked  on  a  Baltic  bar? 

*  Last  night  you  swore  our  voyage  was  done, 

But  seaward  still  we  go. 
And  you  tell  us  now  of  a  secret  vow 

You  have  made  with  an  open  foe! 

3 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

'  That  we  must  lie  off  a  lightless  coast 

And  haul  and  back  and  veer, 
At  the  will  of  the  breed  that  have  wronged  us  most 

For  a  year  and  a  year  and  a  year! 


'  There  was  never  a  shame  in  Christendie 

They  laid  not  to  our  door — 
And  you  say  we  must  take  the  winter  sea 

And  sail  with  them  once  more? 


*Look  South!    The  gale  is  scarce  o'erpast 
That  stripped  and  laid  us  down. 

When  we  stood  forth  but  they  stood  fast 
And  prayed  to  see  us  drown. 


*Our  dead  they  mocked  are  scarcely  cold. 

Our  wounds  are  bleeding  yet — 
And  you  tell  us  now  that  our  strength  is  sold 

To  help  them  press  for  a  debt! 


'  'Neath  all  the  flags  of  all  mankind 

That  use  upon  the  seas, 
Was  there  no  other  fleet  to  find 

That  you  strike  hands  with  these? 


*  Of  evil  times  that  men  can  choose 

On  evil  fate  to  fall, 
What  brooding  Judgment  let  you  loose 

To  pick  the  worst  of  all? 

4 


THE  ROWERS 

*In  sight  of  peace— from  the  Narrow  Seas 

0  'er  half  the  world  to  run— 
With  a  cheated  crew,  to  league  anew 

With  the  Goth  and  the  shameless  Hun!' 


THE  VETERANS 

(Written  for  the  gathering  of  survivors  of  the  Indian 
Mutiny,  Albert  Hall,  1907.) 

TO-DAY,  across  our  fathers'  graves. 
The  astonished  years  reveal 
The  remnant  of  that  desperate  host 
Which  cleansed  our  East  with  steel. 

Hail  and  farewell !    We  greet  you  here. 
With  tears  that  none  will  scorn — 

0  Keepers  of  the  House  of  old, 
Or  ever  we  were  born ! 

One  service  more  we  dare  to  ask — 

Pray  for  us,  heroes,  pray, 
That  when  Fate  lays  on  us  our  task 

We  do  not  shame  the  Day! 


THE  DECLARATION  OF  LONDON 

JUNE  29,  1911 

(*0n  the  re-assembling  of  Parliament  after  the  Corona- 
tion, the  Government  have  no  intention  of  allow- 
ing their  followers  to  vote  according  to  their 
convictions  on  the  Declaration  of  London,  but 
insist  on  a  strictly  party  vote.' — Daily  Papers.) 

WE  were  all  one  heart  and  one  race 
When  the  Abbey  trumpets  blew. 
For  a  moment's  breathing-space 
We  had  forgotten  you. 
Now  you  return  to  your  honoured  place 
Panting  to  shame  us  anew. 

We  have  walked  with  the  Ages  dead — 

With  our  Past  alive  and  ablaze. 
And  you  bid  us  pawn  our  honour  for  bread, 

This  day  of  all  the  days! 
And  you  cannot  wait  till  our  guests  arc  sped, 

Or  last  week's  wreath  decays? 

The  light  is  still  in  our  eyes 

Of  Faith  and  Gentlehood, 
Of  Service  and  Sacrifice; 

And  it  does  not  match  our  mood, 

7 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

To  turn  so  soon  to  your  treacheries 
That  starve  our  land  of  her  food. 


Our  ears  still  carry  the  sound 

Of  our  once  Imperial  seas, 
Exultant  after  our  King  was  crowned. 

Beneath  the  sun  and  the  breeze. 
It  is  too  early  to  have  them  bound 

Or  sold  at  your  decrees. 

Wait  till  the  memory  goes, 

Wait  till  the  visions  fade. 
We  may  betray  in  time,  God  knows, 

But  we  would  not  have  it  said. 
When  you  make  report  to  our  scornful  foes, 

That  we  kissed  as  we  betrayed ! 


8 


ULSTER 

1912 

(*  Their  webs  shall  not  become  garments,  neither  shall 
they  cover  themselves  with  their  works:  their 
works  are  works  of  iniquity  and  the  act  of  violence 
is  in  their  hands.' — Isaiah  lix.  6.) 

THE  dark  eleventh  hour 
Draws  on  and  sees  us  sold 
To  every  evil  power 
We  fought  against  of  old. 
Rebellion,  rapine,  hate, 
Oppression,  wrong  and  greed 
Are  loosed  to  rule  our  fate, 
By  England's  act  and  deed. 


The  Faith  in  which  we  stand. 
The  laws  we  made  and  guard. 
Our  honour,  lives,  and  land 
Are  given  for  reward 
To  Murder  done  by  night, 
To  Treason  taught  by  day. 
To  folly,  sloth,  and  spite, 
And  we  are  thrust  away. 
9 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

The  blood  our  fathers  spilt, 
Our  love,  our  toils,  our  pains, 
Are  counted  us  for  guilt, 
And  only  bind  our  chains. 
Before  an  Empire's  eyes 
The  traitor  claims  his  price. 
What  need  of  further  lies? 
We  are  the  sacrifice. 


We  asked  no  more  than  leave 
To  reap  where  we  had  sown. 
Through  good  and  ill  to  cleave 
To  our  own  flag  and  throne. 
Now  England's  shot  and  steel 
Beneath  that  flag  must  show 
How  loyal  hearts  should  kneel 
To  England's  oldest  foe. 

We  know  the  war  prepared 
On  every  peaceful  home, 
We  know  the  hells  declared 
For  such  as  serve  not  Rome — 
The  terror,  threats,  and  dread 
In  market,  hearth,  and  field — 
We  know,  when  all  is  said. 
We  perish  if  we  yield. 

Believe,  we  dare  not  boast. 
Believe,  we  do  not  fear — 
We  stand  to  pay  the  cost 
In  all  that  men  hold  dear. 
10 


ULSTER 

What  answer  from  the  North? 
One  Law,  one  Land,  one  Throne. 
If  England  drive  us  forth 
We  shall  not  fall  alone. 


11 


THE  COVENANT 
1914 

WE  thought  we  ranked  above  the  chance  of  ill. 
Others  might  fall,  not  we,  for  we  were  wise — 
Merchants  in  freedom.     So,  of  our  free-will 
We  let  our  servants  drug  our  strength  with  lies. 
The  pleasure  and  the  poison  had  its  way 

On  us  as  on  the  meanest,  till  we  learned 
That  he  who  lies  will  steal,  who  steals  will  slay. 
Neither  God's  judgment  nor  man's  heart  was  turned. 


Yet  there  remains  His  Mercy — to  be  sought 
Through  wrath  and  peril  till  wc  cleanse  the  wrong 
By  that  last  right  which  our  forefathers  claimed 
When  their  Law  failed  them  and  its  stewards  were 

bought. 
This  is  our  cause.     God  help  us,  and  make  strong 
Our  wills  to  meet  Him  later,  unashamed ! 


12 


FRANCE 
1913 

T^ROKE  to  every  known  mischance,  lifted  over  all 
/3  By  Ihe  light  sane  joy  of  life,  the  buckler  of  the  Gaul; 

Furious  in  luxury,  merciless  in  toil. 
Terrible  with  strength  that  draws  from  her  tireless  soil; 
Strictest  Judge  of  her  own  worth,  gentlest  of  man's  mind. 
First  to  follow  Truth  and  last  to  leave  old  Truths  behind — 
France,  beloved  of  every  soul  that  loves  its  fellow-kind ! 

Ere  our  birth  (rememberest  thou?)  side  by  side  we  lay 

Fretting  in  the  womb  of  Rome  to  begin  our  fray. 

Ere  men  knew  our  tongues  apart,  our  one  task  was 

known — 
Each  must  mould  the  other's  fate  as  he  wrought  his 

own. 
To  this  end  we  stirred  mankind  till  all  Earth  was  ours, 
Till  our  world-end  strifes  begat  wayside  thrones  and 

powers — 
Puppets  that  we  made  or  broke  to  bar  the  other's  path — 
Necessary,  outpost  folk,  hirelings  of  our  wrath. 
To  this  end  we  stormed  the  seas,  tack  for  tack,  and 

burst 
Through  the  doorways  of  new  worlds,  doubtful  which 

was  first. 
Hand  on  hilt  (rememberest  thou?)  ready  for  the  blow — 

13 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Sure,  whatever  else  we  met,  we  should  meet  our  foe. 
Spurred  or  baulked  at  every  stride  by  the  other's 

strength, 
So  we  rode  the  ages  down  and  every  ocean's  length! 

Where  did  you  refrain  from  us  or  we  refrain  from  you? 
Ask  the  wave  that  has  not  watched  war  between  us  two ! 
Others  held  us  for  a  while,  but  with  weaker  charms, 
These  we  quitted  at  the  call  for  each  other's  arms. 
Eager  toward  the  known  delight,  equally  we  strove — 
Each  the  other's  mystery,  terror,  need,  and  love. 
To  each  other's  open  court  with  our  proofs  we  came. 
Where  could  we  find  honour  else,  or  men  to  test  our 

claim? 
From  each  other's  throat  we  wrenched — valour's  last 

reward — 
That  extorted  word  of  praise  gasped  'twixt  lunge  and 

guard. 
In  each  other's  cup  we  poured  mingled  blood  and  tears, 
Brutal  joys,  unmeasured  hopes,  intolerable  fears — 
All  that  soiled  or  salted  life  for  a  thousand  years. 
Proved  beyond  the  need  of  proof,  matched  in  every 

clime, 
O  companion,  we  have  lived  greatly  through  all  time! 

Yoked  in  knowledge  and  remorse,  now  we  come  to  rest, 
Laughing  at  old  villainies  that  Time  has  turned  to  jest; 
Pardoning  old  necessities  no  pardon  can  efface — 
That  undying  sin  we  shared  in  Rouen  market-place. 
Now  we  watch  the  new  years  shape,  wondering  if  they 

hold 
Fiercer  lightnings  in  their  heart  than  we  launched  of 

old. 

14 


FRANCE 

Now  we  hear  new  voices  rise,  question,  boast  or  gird, 
As  we  raged  (rememberest  thou?)  when  our  crowds  were 

stirred. 
Now  we  count  new  keels  afloat,  and  new  hosts  on  land, 
Massed  like  ours  (rememberest  thou?)  when  our  strokes 

were  planned. 
We  were  schooled  for  dear  life's  sake,  to  know  each 

other's  blade. 
What  can  blood  and  iron  make  more  than  we  have 

made? 
We  have  learned  by  keenest  use  to  know  each  other's 

mind. 
What  shall  blood  and  iron  loose  that  we  cannot  bind? 
We  who  swept  each  other's  coast,  sacked  each  other's 

home. 
Since  the  sword  of  Brennus  clashed  on  the  scales  at 

Rome 
Listen,  count  and  close  again,  wheeling  girth  to  girth, 
In  the  linked  and  steadfast  guard  set  for  peace  on  earth! 


Broke  to  every  known  mischance,  lifted  over  all 

By  the  light  sane  joy  of  life,  the  buckler  of  the  Gaul; 

Furious  in  luxury,  merciless  in  toil, 

Terrible  with  strength  renewed  from  a  tireless  soil; 

Strictest  judge  of  her  own  worth,  gentlest  of  man's 

mind. 
First  to  face  the  Truth  and  last  to  leave  old  Truths 

behind — 
France,  beloved  of  every  soul  that  loves  or  serves  its 

kind! 


15 


'FOR  ALL  WE  HAVE  AND  ARE' 
1914 

FOR  all  we  have  and  are. 
For  all  our  children's  fate, 
Stand  up  and  take  the  war. 
The  Hun  is  at  the  gate! 
Our  world  has  passed  away, 
In  wantonness  o'erthrown. 
There  is  nothing  left  to-day 
But  steel  and  fire  and  stone! 
Though  all  we  knew  depart, 
The  old  Commandments  stand: — 
'  In  courage  keep  your  heart. 
In  strength  lift  up  your  hand.' 


Once  more  we  hear  the  word 
That  sickened  earth  of  old : — 
*No  law  except  the  Sword 
Unsheathed  and  uncontrolled.' 
Once  more  it  knits  mankind. 
Once  more  the  nations  go 
To  meet  and  break  and  bind 
A  crazed  and  driven  foe. 
16 


*FOR  ALL  WE  HAVE  AND  ARE' 

Comfort,  content,  delight. 

The  ages'  slow-bought  gain. 

They  shrivelled  in  a  night. 

Only  ourselves  remain 

To  face  the  naked  days 

In  silent  fortitude, 

Through  perils  and  dismays 

Renewed  and  re-renewed. 

Though  all  we  made  depart. 
The  old  Commandments  stand: — 
*  In  patience  keep  your  heart, 
In  strength  lift  up  your  hand.' 


No  easy  hope  or  lies 
Shall  bring  us  to  our  goal. 
But  iron  sacrifice 
Of  body,  will,  and  soul. 
There  is  but  one  task  for  all — 
One  life  for  each  to  give. 
Who  stands  if  Freedom  fall? 
Who  dies  if  England  live? 


17 


A  SONG  IN  STORM 

lE  well  assured  that  on  our  side 
The  abiding  oceans  fight, 
Though  headlong  wind  and  heaping  tide 
Make  us  their  sport  to-night. 
By  force  of  weather  not  of  war 

In  jeopardy  we  steer, 
Then  welcome  Fate's  discourtesy 
Whereby  it  shall  appear, 
How  in  all  time  of  our  distress. 
And  our  deliverance  too. 
The  game  is  more  than  the  player  of  the  game. 
And  the  ship  is  more  than  the  crew. 

Out  of  the  mist  into  the  mirk 

The  glimmering  combers  roll. 
Almost  these  mindless  waters  work 

As  though  they  had  a  soul — 
Almost  as  though  they  leagued  to  whelm 

Our  flag  beneath  their  green : 
Then  welcome  Fate's  discourtesy 

Whereby  it  shall  be  seen,  etc. 

Be  well  assured,  though  wave  and  wind 

Have  weightier  blows  in  store, 
That  we  who  keep  the  watch  assigned 

Must  stand  to  it  the  more; 

18 


A  SONG  IN  STORM 

And  as  our  streaming  bows  rebuke 
Each  billow's  baulked  career, 

Sing,  welcome  Fate's  discourtesy 
Whereby  it  is  made  clear,  etc. 


No  matter  though  our  deck  be  swept 

And  masts  and  timber  crack — 
We  can  make  good  all  loss  except 

The  loss  of  turning  back. 
So,  'twixt  these  Devils  and  our  deep 

Let  courteous  trumpets  sound, 
To  welcome  Fate's  discourtesy 

Whereby  it  will  be  found,  etc. 


Be  well  assured,  though  in  our  power 

Is  nothing  left  to  give 
But  chance  and  place  to  meet  the  hour. 

And  leave  to  strive  to  live. 
Till  these  dissolve  our  Order  holds, 

Our  Service  binds  us  here. 
Then  welcome  Fate's  discourtesy 
Whereby  it  is  made  clear. 

How  in  all  time  of  our  distress. 

And  in  our  triumph  too, 

The  game  is  more  than  the  player  of  the  game, 

And  the  ship  is  more  than  the  crew! 


19 


THE  OUTLAWS 
1914 

THROUGH  learned  and  laborious  years 
They  set  themselves  to  find 
Fresh  terrors  and  undreamed-of  fears 
To  heap  upon  mankind. 


All  that  they  drew  from  Heaven  above 
Or  digged  from  earth  beneath, 

They  laid  into  their  treasure-trove 
And  arsenals  of  death: 


While,  for  well-weighed  advantage  sake. 

Ruler  and  ruled  ahke 
Built  up  the  faith  they  meant  to  break 

When  the  fit  hour  should  strike. 


They  traded  with  the  careless  earth. 

And  good  return  it  gave; 
They  plotted  by  their  neighbour's  hearth 

The  means  to  make  him  slave. 
20 


THE  OUTLAWS 

When  all  was  ready  to  their  hand 
They  loosed  their  hidden  sword, 

And  utterly  laid  waste  a  land 
Their  oath  was  pledged  to  guard. 


Coldly  they  went  about  lo  raise 
To  life  and  make  more  dread 

Abominations  of  old  days, 
That  men  believed  were  dead. 


They  paid  the  price  to  reach  their  goal 

Across  a  world  in  flame; 
But  their  own  hate  slew  their  own  soul 

Before  that  victory  came. 


21 


ZION 

THE  Doorkeepers  of  Zion, 
They  do  not  always  stand 
In  helmet  and  whole  armour, 
With  halberds  in  their  hand; 
But,  being  sure  of  Zion, 
And  all  her  mysteries, 
They  rest  awhile  in  Zion, 
Sit  down  and  smile  in  Zion; 
Ay,  even  jest  in  Zion; 
In  Zion,  at  their  ease. 


The  Gatekeepers  of  Baal, 

They  dare  not  sit  or  lean, 
But  fume  and  fret  and  posture 

And  foam  and  curse  between; 
For  being  bound  to  Baal, 

Whose  sacrifice  is  vain. 
Their  rest  is  scant  with  Baal, 
They  glare  and  pant  for  Baal, 
They  mouth  and  rant  for  Baal, 

For  Baal  in  their  pain' 
22 


ZION 

But  we  will  go  to  Zion, 

By  choice  and  not  through  dread, 
With  these  our  present  comrades 

And  those  our  present  dead ; 
And,  being  free  of  Zion 

In  both  her  fellowships, 
Sit  down  and  sup  in  Zion — 
Stand  up  and  drink  in  Zion 
Whatever  cup  in  Zion 

Is  offered  to  our  lips! 


23 


LORD  ROBERTS 
1914 

HE  passed  in  the  very  battle-smoke 
Of  the  war  that  he  had  descried. 
Three  hundred  mile  of  cannon  spoke 
When  the  Master-Gunner  died. 


He  passed  to  the  very  sound  of  the  guns; 

But,  before  his  eye  grew  dim, 
He  had  seen  the  faces  of  the  sons 

Whose  sires  had  served  with  him. 


He  had  touched  their  sword-hilts  and  greeted  each 

With  the  old  sure  word  of  praise; 
And  there  was  virtue  in  touch  and  speech 

As  it  had  been  in  old  days. 


So  he  dismissed  them  and  took  his  rest. 
And  Ihc  steadfast  spirit  went  forth 

Between  the  adoring  East  and  West 
And  the  tireless  guns  of  the  North. 
24 


LORD  ROBERTS 

Clean,  simple,  valiant,  well-beloved, 

Flawless  in  faith  and  fame. 
Whom  neither  ease  nor  honours  moved 

An  hair's-breadth  from  his  aim. 


Never  again  the  war-wise  face. 
The  weighed  and  urgent  word 

That  pleaded  in  the  market-place- 
Pleaded  and  was  not  heard! 


Yet  from  his  life  a  new  life  springs 
Through  all  the  hosts  to  come. 

And  Glory  is  the  least  of  things 
That  follow  this  man  home. 


25 


THE  QUESTION 
1916 

BRETHREN,  how  shall  it  fare  with  me 
When  the  war  is  laid  aside, 
If  it  be  proven  that  I  am  he 
For  whom  a  world  has  died? 


If  it  be  proven  that  all  my  good, 
And  the  greater  good  I  will  make, 

Were  purchased  me  by  a  multitude 
Who  suffered  for  my  sake? 


That  I  was  delivered  by  mere  mankind 

Vowed  to  one  sacrifice, 
And  not,  as  I  hold  them,  battle-blind, 

But  dying  with  open  eyes? 


That  they  did  not  ask  me  to  draw  the  sword 
When  they  stood  to  endure  their  lot — 

That  they  only  looked  to  me  for  a  word, 
And  I  answered  I  knew  them  not? 
26 


THE  QUESTION 

If  it  be  found,  when  the  battle  clears, 

Their  death  has  set  me  free. 
Then  how  shall  I  live  with  myself  through  the  years 

Which  they  have  bought  for  me? 

Brethren,  how  must  it  fare  with  me, 

Or  how  am  I  justified. 
If  it  be  proven  that  I  am  he 

For  whom  mankind  has  died; 
If  it  be  proven  that  I  am  he 

Who  being  questioned  denied? 


27 


THE  CHOICE 
1917 

(the    AMERICAN    SPIRIT    SPEAKS) 


T 


0  the  Judge  of  Right  and  Wrong 

With  Whom  fulfilment  lies 
Our  purpose  and  our  power  belong. 
Our  faith  and  sacrifice. 


Let  Freedom's  Land  rejoice! 

Our  ancient  bonds  are  riven; 
Once  more  to  us  the  eternal  choice 

Of  Good  or  111  is  given. 


Not  at  a  little  cost, 

Hardly  by  prayer  or  tears, 
Shall  we  recover  the  road  we  lost 

In  the  drugged  and  doubting  years. 


But,  after  the  fires  and  the  wrath, 
But,  after  searching  and  pain, 

His  Mercy  opens  us  a  path 
To  live  with  ourselves  again. 
28 


THE  CHOICE 

In  the  Gates  of  Death  rejoice! 

We  see  and  hold  the  good — 
Bear  witness,  Earth,  we  have  made  our  choice 

With  Freedom's  brotherhood! 


Then  praise  the  Lord  Most  High 

Whose  Strength  hath  saved  us  whole, 

Who  bade  us  choose  that  the  Flesh  should  die 
And  not  the  living  Soul ! 


To  the  God  in  Man  displayed — 
Where  e'er  we  see  that  Birth, 

Be  love  and  understanding  paid 
As  never  yet  on  earth  I 


To  the  Spirit  that  moves  in  Man, 
On  Whom  all  worlds  depend, 

Be  Glory  since  our  world  began 
And  service  to  the  end ! 


29 


THE  HOLY  WAR 

1917 

('For  here  lay  the  excellent  wisdom  of  him  that  built 
Mansoul,  that  the  walls  could  never  be  broken 
down  nor  hurt  by  the  most  mighty  adverse  poten- 
tate unless  the  townsmen  gave  consent  thereto.' — 
Bunyan's  Holy  War.^ 

A  TINKER  out  of  Bedford, 
^^j^       A  vagrant  oft  in  quod, 
A  private  under  Fairfax, 
A  minister  of  God — 
Two  hundred  years  and  thirty 

Ere  Armageddon  came 
His  single  hand  portrayed  if. 
And  Bunyan  was  his  name  ! 

He  mapped,  for  those  who  follow. 
The  world  in  which  we  are — 

*This  famous  town  of  Mansoul' 
That  takes  the  Holy  War. 

Her  true  and  traitor  people, 

The  gates  along  her  wall. 
From  Eye  Gate  unto  Feel  Gate, 

John  Bunyan  showed  them  all. 
30 


THE  HOLY  WAR 

All  enemy  divisions, 

Recruits  of  every  class, 
And  highly-screened  positions 

For  flame  or  poison-gas; 
The  craft  that  we  call  modern. 

The  crimes  that  we  call  new, 
John  Bunyan  had,  'em  typed  and  filed 

In  Sixteen  Eighty-two. 


Likewise  the  Lords  of  Looseness 

That  hamper  faith  and  works, 
The  Perseverance-Doubters, 

And  Present-Comfort  shirks, 
With  brittle  intellectuals 

Who  crack  beneath  a  strain — 
John  Bunyan  met  that  helpful  set 

In  Charles  the  Second's  reign. 

Emmanuel's  vanguard  dying 
For  right  and  not  for  rights, 

My  Lord  Apollyon  lying 
To  the  State-kept  Stockholmites, 

The  Pope,  the  swithering  Neutrals, 
The  Kaiser  and  his  Gott — 

Their  roles,  their  goals,  their  naked  souls- 
He  knew  and  drew  the  lot. 


Now  he  hath  left  his  quarters, 
In  Bunhill  Fields  to  lie, 

The  wisdom  that  he  taught  us 
Is  proven  prophecy — 
31 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

One  watchword  through  our  armies,  ' 
One  answer  from  our  lands: — 

'No  deahngs  with  Diabolus 
As  long  as  Mansoul  stands!' 


A  pedlar  from  a  hovel,  . 

The  lowest  of  the  low, 
The  father  of  the  Novel, 

Salvation's  first  Defoe, 
Eight  blinded  generations 

Ere  Armageddon  came, 
He  showed  us  how  to  meet  if. 

And  Bunyan  was  his  name  ! 


32 


THE  HOUSES 

(a  song  of  the  dominions) 

1898 

TWIXT  my  house  and  thy  house  the  pathway  is 
broad, 
In  thy  house  or  my  house  is  half  the  world's 
hoard; 
By  my  house  and  thy  house  hangs  all  the  world's  fate, 
On  thy  house  and  my  house  lies  half  the  world's  hate. 


For  my  house  and  thy  house  no  help  shall  we  find 
Save  thy  house  and  my  house — kin  cleaving  to  kind ; 
If  my  house  be  taken,  thine  tumbleth  anon. 
If  thy  house  be  forfeit,  mine  followeth  soon. 


'Twixt  my  house  and  thy  house  what  talk  can  there  be 
Of  headship  or  lordship,  or  service  or  fee? 
Since  my  house  to  thy  house  no  greater  can  send 
Than  thy  house  to  my  house — friend  comforting  friend ; 
And  thy  house  to  my  house  no  meaner  can  bring 
Than  my  house  to  thy  house — King  counselling  King. 


33 


RUSSIA  TO  THE  PACIFISTS 

GOD  rest  you,  peaceful  gentlemen,  let  nothing  yoi; 
dismay. 
But — leave  your  sports  a  little  while — the  dead 
are  borne  this  way ! 
Armies  dead  and  Cities  dead,  past  all  count  or  care. 
God  rest  you,  merry  gentlemen,  what  portent  see  you 
there? 

Singing: — Break  ground  for  a  wearied  host 
That  have  no  ground  to  keep. 
Give  them  the  rest  that  they  covet 

most     .     .     . 
And  who  shall  next  to  sleep,  good  sirs, 
In  such  a  trench  to  sleep? 


God  rest  you,  peaceful  gentlemen,  but  give  us  leave  to 

pass. 
We  go  to  dig  a  nation's  grave  as  great  as  England  was. 
For  this  Kingdom  and  this  Glory  and  this  Power  and 

this  Pride 
Three  hundred  years  it  flourished — in  three  hundred 

days  it  died. 

34 


RUSSIA  TO  THE  PACIFISTS 

Singing: — Pour  oil  for  a  frozen  throng. 
That  lie  about  the  ways. 
Give  them    the  warmth    they    have 

lacked  so  long     .     .     . 
And  what  shall  be  next  to  blaze,  good 

sirs, 
On  such  a  pyre  to  blaze? 


God  rest  you,  thoughtful  gentlemen,  and  send  your 

sleep  is  light! 
Remains  of  this  dominion  no  shadow,  sound,  or  sight, 
Except  the  sound  of  weeping  and  the  sight  of  burning 

fire, 
And  the  shadow  of  a  people  that  is  trampled  into  mire. 
Singing: — Break  bread  for  a  starving  folk 
That  perish  in  the  field. 
Give  them  their  food  as  they  take  the 

yoke     .     .     . 
And  who  shall  be  next  to  yield,  good 

sirs, 
For  such  a  bribe  to  yield? 


God  rest  you,  merry  gentlemen,  and  keep  you  in  your 

mirth! 
Was  ever  kingdom  turned  so  soon  to  ashes,  blood,  and 

earth? 
'Twixt  the  summer  and  the  snow — seeding-time  and 

frost — 
Arms  and  victual,  hope  and  counsel,  name  and  country 

lost! 

35 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Singing : — Let  down  by  the  foot  and  the  head — 
Shovel  and  smooth  it  all ! 
So  do  we  bury  a  Nation  dead     .     .     . 
And  who  shall  be  next  to  fall,  good 

sirs, 
With  your  good  help  to  fall? 


36 


THE  IRISH  GUARDS 

1918 

WE'RE  not  so  old  in  the  Army  List, 
But  we're  not  so  young  at  our  trade, 
For  we  had  the  honour  at  Fontenoy 
Of  meeting  the  Guards'  Brigade. 
'Twas  Lally,  Dillon,  Bulkeley,  Clare, 

And  Lee  that  led  us  then. 
And  after  a  hundred  and  seventy  years 
We're  fighting  for  France  again ! 

Old  Days  I     The  wild  geese  are  flighting. 

Head  to  the  storm  as  they  faced  it  before  ! 
For  where  there  are  Irish  there's  bound  to  be  fighting, 
And  when  there's  no  fighting,  ifs  Ireland  no  more ! 

Ireland  no  more  I 


The  fashion's  all  for  khaki  now. 

But  once  through  France  we  went 
Full-dressed  in  scarlet  Army  cloth. 

The  English — left  at  Ghent. 
They're  fighting  on  our  side  to-day 

But,  before  they  changed  their  clothes. 
The  half  of  Europe  knew  our  fame, 

As  all  of  Ireland  knows! 

37 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Old  Days  !     The  wild  geese  are  flying. 
Head  to  the  storm  as  they  faced  it  before  ! 

For  where  there  are  Irish  there's  memory  undying, 
And  when  we  forget,  it  is  Ireland  no  more  ! 

Ireland  no  more  1 


From  Barry  Wood  to  Cjouzeaucourt, 

From  Boyne  to  Pilkem  Ridge, 
The  ancient  days  come  back  no  more 

Than  water  under  the  bridge. 
But  the  bridge  it  stands  and  the  water  runs 

As  red  as  yesterday, 
And  the  Irish  move  to  the  sound  of  the  guns 
Like  salmon  to  the  sea. 

Old  Days  !     The  wild  geese  are  ranging, 

Head  to  the  storm  as  they  faced  it  before  ! 
For  where  there  are  Irish  their  hearts  are  unchanging. 
And  when  they  are  changed,  it  is  Ireland  no  more  ! 

Ireland  no  more  I 


We're  not  so  old  in  the  Army  List, 

But  we're  not  so  new  in  the  ring, 
For  we  carried  our  packs  with  Marshal  Saxe 

When  Louis  was  our  King. 
But  Douglas  Haig's  our  Marshal  now 

And  we're  King  George's  men, 
And  after  one  hundred  and  seventy  years 

We're  fighting  for  France  again ! 

38 


THE  IRISH  GUARDS 

Ah,  France  !    And  did  we  stand  by  you. 

When   life   was   made   splendid   with  gifts   and 
rewards  ? 
Ah,  France  I     And  will  we  deny  you 

In  the  hour  of  your  agony.  Mother  of  Swords  ? 
Old  Days  !     The  wild  geese  are  flighting. 

Head  to  the  storm  as  they  faced  it  before  ! 
For  where  there  are  Irish  there's  loving  and  fighting, 

And  when  we  stop  either,  ifs  Ireland  no  more  I 

Ireland  no  more ! 


39 


A  NATIVITY 
1916 

7^  HE  Babe  was  laid  in  the  Manger 
Between  the  gentle  kine — 
All  safe  from  cold  and  danger — 
^But  it  was  not  so  with  mine. 

(With  mine !     With  mine !) 


*Is  it  well  with  the  child,  is  it  well?' 
The  waiting  mother  prayed. 

'For  I  know  not  how  he  fell, 
And  I  know  not  where  he  is  laid.' 


A  Star  stood  forth  in  Heaven; 

The  watchers  ran  to  see 
The  Sign  of  the  Promise  given — 

'But  there  comes  no  sign  to  me. 

(To  me!    To  me!) 


*My  child  died  in  the  dark. 

Is  it  well  with  the  child,  is  it  well? 
There  was  none  to  tend  him  or  mark. 

And  I  know  not  how  he  fell.' 
40 


A  NATIVITY 

The  Cross  was  raised  on  high; 

The  Mother  grieved  beside — 
'But  the  Mother  saw  Him  die 

And  took  Him  when  He  died. 

(He  died!  He  died!) 

'Seemly  and  undefiled 

His  burial-place  was  made — 
Is  it  well,  is  it  well  with  the  child? 

For  I  know  not  where  he  is  laid.' 

On  the  dawning  of  Easter  Day 

Comes  Mary  Magdalene; 
But  the  Stone  was  rolled  away. 

And  the  Body  was  not  within — 

(Within!     Within!) 

*  Ah,  who  will  answer  my  word? ' 

The  broken  mother  prayed. 
'  They  have  taken  away  my  Lord, 

And  I  know  not  where  He  is  laid.' 


*  The  Star  stands  forth  in  Heaven. 

The  watchers  watch  in  vain 

For  a  Sign  of  the  Promise  given 

Of  peace  on  Earth  again — 

(Again !     Again !) 

'But  I  know  for  Whom  he  fell' — 
The  steadfast  mother  smiled, 

*  Is  it  well  with  the  child — is  it  well? 

It  is  well — it  is  well  with  the  child!' 
41 


EN-DOR 

('Behold  there  is  a  woman  that  hath  a  familiar  spirit  at 
En-dor.' — 1  Samuel  xxviii.  7.) 

THE  road  to  En-dor  is  easy  to  tread 
For  Mother  or  yearning  Wife, 
There,  it  is  sure,  we  shall  meet  our  Dead 
As  they  were  even  in  life. 
Earth  has  not  dreamed  of  the  blessing  in  store 
For  desolate  hearts  on  the  road  to  En-dor. 


Whispers  shall  comfort  us  out  of  the  dark — 

Hands — ah  God! — that  we  knew! 
Visions  and  voices — look  and  heark! — 

Shall  prove  that  our  tale  is  true. 
And  that  those  who  have  passed  to  the  further  shore 
May  be  hailed — at  a  price — on  the  road  to  En-dor. 


But  they  are  so  deep  in  their  new  eclipse 

Nothing  they  say  can  reach, 
Unless  it  be  uttered  by  alien  lips 

And  framed  in  a  stranger's  speech. 
The  son  must  send  word  to  the  mother  that  bore, 
Through  an  hireling's  mouth.     'Tis  the  rule  of  En-dor. 

42 


EN-DOR 

And  not  for  nothing  these  gifts  are  shown 

By  such  as  dehght  our  dead. 
They  must  twitch  and  stiffen  and  slaver  and  groan 

Ere  the  eyes  are  set  in  the  head, 
And  the  voice  from  the  belly  begins.     Therefore, 
We  pay  them  a  wage  where  they  ply  at  En-dor. 


Even  so,  we  have  need  of  faith 

And  patience  to  follow  the  clue. 
Often,  at  first,  what  the  dear  one  saith 

Is  babble,  or  jest,  or  untrue. 
(Lying  spirits  perplex  us  sore 

Till    our    loves — and    our    lives — are    well-known    at 
En-dor).     .     .     . 


Oh  the  road  to  En-dor  is  the  oldest  road 

And  the  craziest  road  of  all  I 
Straight  it  runs  to  the  Witch's  abode. 

As  it  did  in  the  days  of  Saul, 
And  nothing  has  changed  of  the  sorrow  in  store 
For  such  as  go  down  on  the  road  to  En-dor  ! 


43 


A  RECANTATION 
(to  lyde  of  the  music  halls) 

WHAT  boots  it  on  the  Gods  to  call? 
Since,  answered  or  unheard, 
We  perish  with  the  Gods  and  all 
Things  made — except  the  Word. 


Ere  certain  Fate  had  touched  a  heart 

By  fifty  years  made  cold, 
I  judged  ithee,  Lyde,  and  thy  art 

O'erblown  and  over-bold. 


But  he — but  he,  of  whom  bereft 
I  suffer  vacant  days — 

He  on  his  shield  not  meanly  left- 
He  cherished  all  thy  lays. 


Witness  the  magic  coffer  stocked 

With  convoluted  runes 
Wherein  thy  very  voice  was  locked 

And  linked  to  circling  tunes. 
44 


A  RECANTATION 

Witness  thy  portrait,  smoke-defiled, 

That  decked  his  shelter-place. 
Life  seemed  more  present,  wrote  the  child, 

Beneath  thy  well-known  face. 


And  when  the  grudging  days  restored 

Him  for  a  breath  to  home, 
He,  with  fresh  crowds  of  youth,  adored 

Thee  making  mirth  in  Rome. 


Therefore,  I,  humble,  join  the  hosts, 

Loyal  and  loud,  who  bow 
To  thee  as  Queen  of  Songs — and  ghosts- 

For  I  remember  how 


Never  more  rampant  rose  the  Hall 

At  thy  audacious  line 
Than  when  the  news  came  in  from  Gaul 

Thy  son  had — followed  mine. 


But  thou  didst  hide  it  in  thy  breast 
And,  capering,  took  the  brunt 

Of  blaze  and  blare,  and  launched  the  jest 
That  swept  next  week  the  front. 


Singer  to  children !     Ours  possessed 
Sleep  before  noon — but  thee, 

Wakeful  each  midnight  for  the  rest. 
No  holocaust  shall  free. 
45 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Yet  they  who  use  the  Word  assigned, 

To  hearten  and  make  whole, 
Not  less  than  Gods  have  served  mankind, 

Though  vultures  rend  their  soul. 


46 


MY  BOY  JACK 

*  T    T AVE  you  news  of  my  boy  Jack?' 

I — I        Not  this  tide. 

1    1   *When  d'you  think  that  he'll  come  back?' 
Not  with  this  wind  blowing,  and  this  tide. 


*Has  any  one  else  had  word  of  him?' 

Not  this  tide. 
For  what  is  sunk  will  hardly  swim. 

Not  with  this  wind  blowing,  and  this  tide. 


*0h,  dear,  what  comfort  can  I  fmd?' 

None  this  tide. 

Nor  any  tide. 
Except  he  did  not  shame  his  kind — 

Not  even  with  that  wind  blowing,  and  that  tide. 


Then  hold  your  head  up  all  the  more, 

This  tide. 

And  every  tide; 
Because  he  was  the  son  you  bore. 

And  gave  to  that  wind  blowing  and  that  tide  ! 


47 


THE  VERDICTS 

(JUTLAND) 

NOT  in  the  thick  of  the  fight, 
Not  in  the  press  of  the  odds, 
Do  the  heroes  come  to  their  height, 
Or  we  know  the  demi-gods. 


That  stands  over  till  peace. 

We  can  only  perceive 
Men  returned  from  the  seas. 

Very  grateful  for  leave. 


They  grant  us  sudden  days 

Snatched  from  their  business  of  war; 
But  we  are  too  close  to  appraise 

What  manner  of  men  they  are. 


And,  whether  their  names  go  down 

With  age-kept  victories, 
Or  whether  they  battle  and  drown 

Unreckoned,  is  hid  from  our  eyes. 

48 


THE  VERDICTS 

They  are  too  near  to  be  great. 
But  our  children  shall  understand 

When  and  how  our  fate 

Was  changed,  and  by  whose  hand. 


Our  children  shall  measure  their  worth. 

We  are  content  to  be  blind     .     .     . 
But  we  know  that  we  walk  on  a  new-born  earth 

With  the  saviours  of  mankind. 


49 


MESOPOTAMIA 
1917 

THEY  shall  not  return  to  us,  the  resolute,  the 
young, 
The  eager  and  whole-hearted  whom  we  gave : 
But  the  men  who  left  them  thriftily  to  die  in  their  own 
dung, 
Shall  they  come  with  years  and  honour  to  the  grave? 


They  shall  not  return  to  us,  the  strong  men  coldly  slain 
In  sight  of  help  denied  from  day  to  day: 

But  the  men  who  edged  their  agonies  and  chid  them  in 
their  pain, 
Are  they  too  strong  and  wise  to  put  away? 


Our  dead  shall  not  return  to  us  while  Day  and  Night 
divide — 
Never  while  the  bars  of  sunset  hold : 
But  the  idle-minded  overlings  who  quibbled  while  they 
died. 
Shall  they  thrust  for  high  employments  as  of  old? 

50 


MESOPOTAMIA 

Shall  we  only  threaten  and  be  angry  for  an  hour? 

When  the  storm  is  ended  shall  we  find 
How  softly  but  how  swiftly  they  have  sidled  back  to 
power 

By  the  favour  and  contrivance  of  their  kind? 


Even  while  they  soothe  us,  while  they  promise  large 
amends, 
Even  while  they  make  a  show  of  fear, 
Do  they  call  upon  their  debtors,  and  take  council,  with 
their  friends, 
To  confirm  and  re-establish  each  career? 


Their  lives  cannot  repay  us — their  death  could  not 
undo — 
The  shame  that  they  have  laid  upon  our  race : 
But  the  slothfulness  that  wasted  and  the  arrogance  that 
slew. 
Shall  we  leave  it  unabated  in  its  place? 


51 


THE  HYENAS 

A  FTER  the  burial-parties  leave 
L\        And  the  baffled  kites  have  fled; 
^    ^  The  wise  hyaenas  come  out  at  eve 
To  take  account  of  our  dead. 

How  he  died  and  why  he  died 

Troubles  them  not  a  whit. 
They  snout  the  bushes  and  stones  aside 

And  dig  till  they  come  to  it. 

They  are  only  resolute  they  shall  eat 
That  they  and  their  mates  may  thrive, 

And  they  know  that  the  dead  are  safer  meat 
Than  the  weakest  thing  alive. 

(For  a  goat  may  butt,  and  a  worm  may  sting, 
And  a  child  will  sometimes  stand; 

But  a  poor  dead  soldier  of  the  King 
Can  never  lift  a  hand.) 

They  whoop  and  halloo  and  scatter  the  dirt 

Until  their  tushes  white 
Take  good  hold  in  the  army  shirt, 

And  tug  the  corpse  to  light. 
52 


THE  HYENAS 

And  the  pitiful  face  is  shewn  again 
For  an  instant  ere  they  close; 

But  it  is  not  discovered  to  living  men- 
Only  to  God  and  to  those 


Who,  being  soulless,  are  free  from  shame, 
Whatever  meat  they  may  fmd. 

Nor  do  they  defile  the  dead  man's  name- 
That  is  reserved  for  his  kind. 


53 


THE  SPIES'  MARCH 

(before  the  war) 

('The  outbreak  is  in  full  swing  and  our  death-rate 

would  sicken  Napoleon.     .     .     .     Dr.  M died 

last  week,  and  C on  Monday,  but  some  more 

medicines  are  coming.  .  .  .  We  don't  seem  to 
be  able  to  check  it  at  all.  .  .  .  Villages  panick- 
ing badly.  ...  In  some  places  not  a  living 
soul.  .  .  .  But  at  any  rate  the  experience 
gained  may  come  in  useful,  so  I  am  keeping  my 
notes  written  up  to  date  in  case  of  accidents. 
.  .  .  Death  is  a  queer  chap  to  live  with  for 
steady  company.' — Extract  from  a  private  letter 
from  Manchuria.) 

THERE  are  no  leaders  to  lead  us  to  honour,  and 
yet  without  leaders  we  sally. 
Each  man  reporting  for  duty  alone,  out  of  sight, 
out  of  reach,  of  his  fellow. 
There  are  no  bugles  to  call  the  battalions,  and  yet 
without  bugles  we  rally 
From  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
to  follow  the  Standard  of  Yellow! 
Fall  in  I     0  fall  in  I     0  fall  in  ! 

Not  where  the  squadrons  mass. 
Not  where  the  bayonets  shine, 

54 


THE  SPIES'  MARCH 

Not  where  the  big  shell  shout  as  they  pass 

Over  the  firing-line; 
Not  where  the  wounded  are, 

Not  where  the  nations  die, 
Killed  in  the  cleanly  game  of  war — 

That  is  no  place  for  a  spy ! 
O  Princes,  Thrones  and  Powers,  your  work  is  less 

than  ours — 
Here  is  no  place  for  a  spy! 


Trained  to  another  use, 

We  march  with  colours  furled, 
Only  concerned  when  Death  breaks  loose 

On  a  front  of  half  a  world. 
Only  for  General  Death 

The  Yellow  Flag  may  fly, 
While  we  take  post  beneath — 

That  is  the  place  for  a  spy. 
Where  Plague  has  spread  his  pinions  over  Nations 

and  Dominions — 
Then  will  be  work  for  a  spy! 


The  dropping  shots  begin. 

The  single  funerals  pass, 
Our  skirmishers  run  in. 

The  corpses  dot  the  grass! 
The  howling  towns  stampede, 

The  tainted  hamlets  die. 
Now  it  is  war  indeed — 

Now  there  is  room  for  a  spy! 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

O  Peoples,  Kings  and  Lands,  we  are  waiting  your 

commands — 
What  is  the  work  for  a  spy? 

(Drums) — Fear  is  upon  us,  spy  ! 


'  Go  where  his  pickets  hide — 

Unmask  the  shapes  they  take, 
Whether  a  gnat  from  the  waterside. 

Or  stinging  fly  in  the  brake, 
Or  fllth  of  the  crowded  street. 

Or  a  sick  rat  limping  by, 
Or  a  smear  of  spittle  dried  in  the  heat — 

That  is  the  work  of  a  spy! 

(Drums) — Death  is  upon  us,  spy  ! 


'  What  does  he  next  prepare? 

Whence  will  he  move  to  attack? — 
By  water,  earth  or  air? — 

How  can  we  head  him  back? 
Shall  we  starve  him  out  if  we  burn 

Or  bury  his  food-supply? 
Slip  through  his  lines  and  learn — 

That  is  work  for  a  spy! 

(Drums) — Get  to  your  business,  spy  I 


'Does  he  feint  or  strike  in  force? 

Will  he  charge  or  ambuscade? 
What  is  it  checks  his  course? 

Is  he  beaten  or  only  delayed? 
56 


THE  SPIES'  MARCH 

How  long  will  the  lull  endure? 

Is  he  retreating?     Why? 
Crawl  to  his  camp  and  make  sure — 

That  is  the  work  for  a  spy! 

(Drums) — Fetch  us  our  answer,  spy  ! 


*Ride  with  him  girth  to  girth 

Wherever  the  Pale  Horse  wheels, 
Wait  on  his  councils,  ear  to  earth. 

And  say  what  the  dust  reveals. 
For  the  smoke  of  our  torment  rolls 

Where  the  burning  thousands  lie; 
What  do  we  care  for  men's  bodies  or  souls? 

Bring  us  deliverance,  spy ! ' 


57 


THE  SONS  OF  MARTHA 

THE  Sons  of  Mary  seldom  bother,  for  they  have 
inherited  that  good  part; 
But  the  Sons  of  Martha  favour  their  Mother  of 
the  careful  soul  and  the  troubled  heart. 
And  because  she  lost  her  temper  once,  and  because  she 

was  rude  to  the  Lord  her  Guest, 
Her  Sons  must  wait  upon  Mary's  Sons,  world  without 
end,  reprieve,  or  rest. 


It  is  their  care  in  all  the  ages  to  take  the  buffet  and 

cushion  the  shock. 
IL  is  their  care  that  the  gear  engages;  it  is  their  care 

that  the  switches  lock. 
1 1  is  their  care  that  the  wheels  run  truly ;  it  is  their  care 

to  embark  and  entrain, 
Tally,  transport,  and  deliver  duly  the  Sons  of  Mary  by 

land  and  main. 


They  say  to  mountains,  'Be  ye  removed.'     They  say 

to  the  lesser  floods  'Be  dry.' 
Under  their  rods  are  the  rocks  reproved — they  are  not 

afraid  of  that  which  is  high. 

58 


THE  SONS  OF  MARTHA 

Then  do  the  hill-tops  shake  to  the  summit — then  is  the 

bed  of  the  deep  laid  bare, 
That  the  Sons  of  Mary  may  overcome  it,  pleasantly 

sleeping  and  unaware. 


They  fmger  death  at  their  gloves'   end  where  they 

piece  and  repiece  the  living  wires. 
He  rears  against  the  gates  they  tend:  they  feed  him 

hungry  behind  their  fires. 
Early  at  dawn,  ere  men  see  clear,  they  stumble  into 

his  terrible  stall, 
And  hale  him  forth  like  a  haltered  steer,  and  goad  and 

turn  him  till  evenfall. 

To  these  from  birth  is  Belief  forbidden;  from  these  till 

death  is  Relief  afar. 
They  are  concerned  with  matters  hidden — under  the 

earth-line  their  altars  are: 
The  secret  fountains  to  follow  up,  waters  withdrawn 

to  restore  to  the  mouth, 
And  gather  the  floods  as  in  a  cup,  and  pour  them  again 

at  a  city's  drouth. 

They  do  not  preach  that  their  God  will  rouse  them  a 

little  before  the  nuts  work  loose. 
They  do  not  teach  that  His  Pity  allows  them  to  leave 

their  work  when  they  damn-well  choose. 
As  in  the  thronged  and  the  lighted  ways,  so  in  the 

dark  and  the  desert  they  stand, 
Wary  and  watchful  all  their  days  that  their  brethren's 

days  may  be  long  in  the  land. 

59 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Raise  ye  the  stone  or  cleave  the  wood  to  make  a  path 

more  fair  or  flat; 
Lo,  it  is  black  already  with  blood  some  Son  of  Martha 

spilled  for  that ! 
Not  as  a  ladder  from  earth  to  Heaven,  not  as  a  witness 

to  any  creed, 
But  simple  service  simply  given  to  his  own  kind  in 

their  common  need. 


And  the  Sons  of  Mary  smile  and  are  blessed — they 

know  the  angels  are  on  their  side. 
They  know  in  them  is  the  Grace  confessed,  and  for 

them  are  the  Mercies  multiplied. 
They  sit  at  the  Feet — they  hear  the  Word — they  see 

how  truly  the  Promise  runs; 
They  have  cast  their  burden  upon  the  Lord,  and — the 

Lord  He  lays  it  on  Martha's  Sons! 


60 


I 


MARY'S  SON 

F  YOU  stop  to  find  out  what  your  wages  will  be 
And  how  they  will  clothe  and  feed  you, 
Willie,  my  son,  don't  you  go  on  the  Sea, 
For  the  Sea  will  never  need  you. 


If  you  ask  for  the  reason  of  every  command, 
And  argue  with  people  about  you, 

Willie,  my  son,  don't  you  go  on  the  Land, 
For  the  Land  will  do  better  without  you. 


If  you  stop  to  consider  the  work  you  have  done 
And  to  boast  what  your  labour  is  worth,  dear, 

Angels  may  come  for  you,  Willie,  my  son, 
But  you'll  never  be  wanted  on  Earth,  dear! 


61 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  LATHES 

1918 

(Being  the  words  of  the  tune  hummed  at  her  lathe  by 
Mrs.  L.  Embsay,  widow.) 

THE  fans  and  the  beltings  they  roar  round  me. 
The  power  is  shaking  the  floor  round  me 
Till  the  lathes  pick  up  their  duty  and  the  mid- 
night shift  takes  over. 
It  is  good  for  me  to  be  here! 


Guns  in  Flanders — Flanders  guns  ! 
{I  had  a  man  that  worked  'em  once  !) 
Shells  for  guns  in  Flanders,  Flanders  ! 
Shells  for  guns  in  Flanders,  Flanders  ! 

Shells  for  guns  in  Flanders  !     Feed  the  guns 


The  cranes  and  the  carriers  they  boom  over  me, 
The  bays  and  the  galleries  they  loom  over  me, 
With  their  quarter-mile  of  pillars  growing  little  in  the 
distance: 

It  is  good  for  me  to  be  here! 
62 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  LATHES 

The  Zeppelins  and  Gothas  they  raid  over  us. 
Our  lights  give  warning,  and  fade  over  us. 
(Seven  thousand  women  keeping  quiet  in  the  darkness!) 
Oh,  it  is  good  for  me  to  be  here! 


The  roofs  and  the  buildings  they  grow  round  me, 
Eating  up  the  fields  I  used  to  know  round  me; 
And  the  shed  that  I  began  in  is  a  sub-inspector's  office — 
So  long  have  I  been  here! 


I've  seen  six  hundred  mornings  make  our  lamps  grow 

dim, 
Through  the  bit  that  isn't  painted  round  our  skylight 

rim, 
And  the  sunshine  in  the  window  slope  according  to  the 

seasons. 

Twice  since  Fve  been  here. 


The  trains  on  the  sidings  they  call  to  us 
With  the  hundred  thousand  blanks  that  they  haul  to  us; 
And  we  send  'em  what  we've  finished,  and  they  take 
it  where  it's  wanted, 

For  that  is  why  we  are  here! 


Man's  hate  passes  as  his  love  will  pass. 
God  made  woman  what  she  always  was. 
Them  that  bear  the  burden  they  will  never  grant  for- 
giveness 

So  long  as  they  are  here! 
63 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Once  I  was  a  woman,  but  that's  by  with  me. 
All  I  loved  and  looked  for,  it  must  die  with  me. 
But  the  Lord  has  left  me  over  for  a  servant  of  the 
Judgment, 

And  I  serve  His  Judgments  here! 


Guns  in  Flanders — Flanders  guns  ! 
(I  had  a  son  that  worked  'em  once  !) 
Shells  for  guns  in  Flanders,  Flanders  ! 
Shells  for  guns  in  Flanders,  Flanders  ! 

Shells  for  guns  in  Flanders  !    Feed  the  guns  ! 


64 


GETHSEMANE 

THE  Garden  called  Gethsemane 
In  Picardy  it  was, 
And  there  the  people  came  to  see 
The  English  soldiers  pass. 
We  used  to  pass — we  used  to  pass 

Or  halt,  as  it  might  be, 
And  ship  our  masks  in  case  of  gas 
Beyond  Gethsemane. 


The  Garden  called  Gethsemane, 

It  held  a  pretty  lass. 
But  all  the  time  she  talked  to  me 

I  prayed  my  cup  might  pass. 
The  officer  sat  on  the  chair. 

The  men  lay  on  the  grass, 
And  all  the  time  we  halted  there 

I  prayed  my  cup  might  pass. 


It  didn't  pass — it  didn't  pass — 
It  didn't  pass  from  me. 

I  drank  it  when  we  met  the  gas 
Beyond  Gethsemane. 


65 


THE  PRO-CONSULS 

rHE  overfaithful  sword  returns  the  user 
His  heart's  desire  at  price  of  his  heart's  blood. 
The  clamour  of  the  arrogant  accuser 
Wastes  that  one  hour  we  needed  to  make  good. 
This  was  foretold  of  old  at  our  outgoing; 
This  we  accepted  who  have  squandered,  knowing. 
The  strength  and  glory  of  our  reputations, 
At  the  day's  need,  as  it  were  dross,  to  guard 
The  tender  and  new-dedicate  foundations 
Against  the  sea  we  fear — not  man's  award. 


They  that  dig  foundations  deep. 
Fit  for  realms  to  rise  upon, 

Little  honour  do  they  reap 
Of  their  generation, 

Any  more  than  mountains  gain 

Stature  till  we  reach  the  plain. 


With  no  veil  before  their  face 
Such  as  shroud  or  sceptre  lend — 

Daily  in  the  market-place, 

Of  one  height  to  foe  and  friend — 

They  must  cheapen  self  to  find 

Ends  uncheapened  for  mankind. 
66 


THE  PRO-CONSULS 

Through  the  night  when  hirelings  rest, 

Sleepless  they  arise,  alone, 
The  unsleeping  arch  to  test 

And  the  o'er-trusLed  corner-stone, 
'Gainst  the  need,  they  know,  that  lies 
Hid  behind  the  centuries. 


Not  by  lust  of  praise  or  show 
Not  by  Peace  herself  betrayed- 

Peace  herself  must  they  forego 
Till  that  peace  be  fitly  made; 

And  in  single  strength  uphold 

Wearier  hands  and  hearts  acold. 


On  the  stage  their  act  hath  framed 

For  thy  sports,  0  Liberty ! 
Doubted  are  they,  and  defamed 

By  the  tongues  their  act  set  free, 
While  they  quicken,  tend  and  raise 
Power  that  must  their  power  displace. 


Lesser  men  feign  greater  goals, 
Failing  whereof  they  may  sit 

Scholarly  to  judge  the  souls 
That  go  down  into  the  pit. 

And,  despite  its  certain  clay. 

Heave  a  new  world  towards  the  day. 
67 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

These  at  labour  make  no  sign, 
More  than  planets,  tides  or  years 

Which  discover  God's  design, 
Not  our  hopes  and  not  our  fears; 

Nor  in  aught  they  gain  or  lose 

Seek  a  triumph  or  excuse. 


For,  so  the  Ark  be  borne  to  Zion,  who 
Heeds  how  they  perished  or  were  paid  that  bore  it  ? 
For,  so  the  Shrine  abide,  what  shame — what  pride — 
//  we,  the  priests,  were  bound  or  crowned  before  it  ? 


68 


o 


THE  CRAFTSMAN 

NGE,  after  long-drawn  revel  at  The  Mermaid, 
He  to  the  overbearing  Boanerges 
Jonson,  uttered  (If  half  of  it  were  liquor, 
Blessed  be  the  vintage!) 


Saying  how,  at  an  alehouse  under  Cotswold, 
He  had  made  sure  of  his  very  Cleopatra, 
Drunk  with  enormous,  salvation-contemning 

Love  for  a  tinker. 

How,  while  he  hid  from  Sir  Thomas's  keepers, 
Crouched  in  a  ditch  and  drenched  by  the  midnight 
Dews,  he  had  listened  to  gipsy  Juliet 

Rail  at  the  dawning. 

How  at  Bankside,  a  boy  drowning  kittens 
Winced  at  the  business;  whereupon  his  sister 
(Lady  Macbeth  aged  seven)  thrust  'em  under, 

Sombrely  scornful. 

How  on  a  Sabbath,  hushed  and  compassionate — 
She  being  known  since  her  birth  to  the  townsfolk — 
Slratford  dredged  and  delivered  from  Avon 

Dripping  Ophelia. 
69 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

So,  with  a  thin  third  finger  marrying 
Drop  to  wine-drop  domed  on  the  table, 
Shakespeare  opened  his  heart  till  sunrise 

Entered  to  hear  him. 


London  wakened  and  he,  imperturbable, 
Passed  from  waking  to  hurry  after  shadows     . 
Busied  upon  shows  of  no  earthly  importance? 

Yes,  but  he  knew  it! 


70 


THINGS  AND  THE  MAN 

(in   MEMORIAM,    JOSEPH    CHAMBERLAIN) 
1904 

('And  Joseph  dreamed  a  dream,  and  he  told  it  his 
brethren:  and  they  hated  him  yet  the  more.' — 
Genesis  xxxvii.  5.) 

OH  ye  who  hold  the  written  clue 
To  all  save  all  unwritten  things, 
And,  half  a  league  behind,  pursue 
The  accomplished  Fact  with  flouts  and  flings, 
Look !     To  your  knee  your  baby  brings 
The  oldest  tale  since  Earth  began — 
The  answer  to  your  worryings : 
*  Once  on  a  time  there  was  a  Man.* 


He,  single-handed,  met  and  slew 

Magicians,  Armies,  Ogres,  Kings. 
He  lonely  'mid  his  doubting  crew — 
*In  all  the  loneliness  of  wings' — 
He  fed  the  flame,  he  filled  the  springs. 

He  locked  the  ranks,  he  launched  the  van 
Straight  at  the  grinning  Teeth  of  Things. 
*Once  on  a  time  there  was  a  Man.' 
71 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

The  peace  of  shocked  Foundations  flew 

Before  his  ribald  questionings. 
He  broke  the  Oracles  in  two, 

And  bared  the  paltry  wires  and  strings. 
He  headed  desert  wanderings; 

He  led  his  soul,  his  cause,  his  clan 
A  little  from  the  ruck  of  Things. 
'  Once  on  a  time  there  was  a  Man.' 


Thrones,  Powers,  Dominions  block  the  view 

With  episodes  and  underlings — 
The  meek  historian  deems  them  true 
Nor  heeds  the  song  that  Clio  sings — 
The  simple  central  truth  that  stings 

The  mob  to  boo,  the  priest  to  ban; 
Things  never  yet  created  things — 
'  Once  on  a  time  there  was  a  Man.* 


A  bolt  is  fallen  from  the  blue. 

A  wakened  realm  full  circle  swings 
Where  Dothan's  dreamer  dreams  anew 
Of  vast  and  farborne  harvestings; 
And  unto  him  an  Empire  clings 

That  grips  the  purpose  of  his  plan. 
My  Lords,  how  think  you  of  these  things? 
Once — in  our  time — is  there  a  Man  ? 


72 


A 


THE  BENEFACTORS 

H I     What  avails  the  classic  bent 
And  what  the  cultured  word. 
Against  the  undoctored  incident 
That  actually  occurred  ? 


And  what  is  Art  whereto  we  press 

Through  paint  and  prose  and  rhyme- 
When  Nature  in  her  nakedness 
Defeats  us  every  time  ? 


It  is  not  learning,  grace  nor  gear, 
Nor  easy  meat  and  drink. 

But  bitter  pinch  of  pain  and  fear 
That  makes  creation  think. 


When  in  this  world's  unpleasing  youth 

Our  god-like  race  began, 
The  longest  arm,  the  sharpest  tooth. 

Gave  man  control  of  man; 
73 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Till,  bruised  and  bitten  to  the  bone 
And  taught  by  pain  and  fear, 

He  learned  to  deal  the  far-off  stone. 
And  Doke  the  long,  safe  spear. 


So  tooth  and  nail  were  obsolete 
As  means  against  a  foe. 

Till,  bored  by  uniform  defeat, 
Some  ccnius  built  the  bow. 


Then  stone  and  javelin  proved  as  vain 
As  old-time  tooth  and  nail; 

Ere,  spurred  anew  by  fear  and  pain, 
Man  fashioned  coats  of  mail. 


Then  was  there  safety  for  the  rich 
And  danger  for  the  poor. 

Till  someone  mixed  a  powder  which 
Redressed  the  scale  once  more. 


Helmet  and  armour  disappeared 
With  sword  and  bow  and  pike, 

And,  when  the  smoke  of  battle  cleared, 
All  men  were  armed  alike.     .     .     . 


And  when  ten  million  such  were  slain 

To  please  one  crazy  king, 
Man,  schooled  in  bulk  by  fear  and  pain. 

Grew  weary  of  the  thing; 
74 


THE  BENEFACTORS 

And,  at  the  very  hour  designed, 
To  enslave  him  past  recall, 

His  tooth-stone-arrow-gun-shy  mind 
Turned  and  abolished  all. 


All  Power,  each  Tyrant,  every  Mob 
Whose  head  has  grown  too  large. 

Ends  by  destroying  its  own  job 
And  earns  its  own  discharge. 


And  Man,  whose  mere  necessities 
Move  all  things  from  his  path. 

Trembles  meanwhile  at  their  decreei<. 
And  deprecates  their  wrath  ! 


75 


THE  DEAD  KING 

(eDWARD   VII.) 

1910 

YJf^^^  ^^  ^^^  /?eo/777  to-day  lays  down  dear  life  for 
y^  the  sake  of  a  land  more  dear  ? 

And,  unconcerned  for  his  own  estate,  toils  till 

the  last  grudged  sands  have  run  ? 
Let  him  approach.     It  is  proven  here 
Our  King  asks  nothing  of  any  man  more  than  Our 
King  himself  has  done. 


For  to  him  above  all  was  Life  good,  above  all  he  com- 
manded 

Her  abundance  full-handed. 

The  peculiar  treasure  of  Kings  was  his  for  the  taking: 

All  that  men  come  to  in  dreams  he  inherited  waking: — 

His  marvel  of  world-gathered  armies — one  heart  and 
all  races; 

His  seas  'neath  his  keels  when  his  war-castles  foamed 
to  their  places; 

The  thundering  foreshores  that  answered  his  heralded 
landing; 

The  huge  lighted  cities  adoring,  the  assemblies  up- 
standing; 

76 


THE  DEAD  KING 

The  Councils  of  Kings  called  in  haste  to  learn  how  he 

was  minded — 
The  Kingdoms,  the  Powers,  and  the  Glories  he  dealt 

with  unblinded. 

To  him  came  all  captains  of  men,  all  achievers  of  glory. 

Hot  from  the  press  of  their  battles  they  told  him  their 
story. 

They  revealed  him  their  life  in  an  hour  and,  saluting, 
departed. 

Joyful  to  labour  afresh — he  had  made  them  new- 
hearted. 

And,  since  he  weighed  men  from  his  youth,  and  no  lie 
long  deceived  him, 

He  spoke  and  exacted  the  truth,  and  the  basest  believed 
him. 

And  God  poured  him  an  exquisite  wine,  that  was  daily 
renewed  to  him, 

In  the  clear- welling  love  of  his  peoples  that  daily  ac- 
crued to  him. 

Honour  and  service  we  gave  him,  rejoicingly  fearless; 

Faith  absolute,  trust  beyond  speech  and  a  friendship 
as  peerless. 

And  since  he  was  Master  and  Servant  in  ail  that  we 
asked  him, 

We  leaned  hard  on  his  wisdom  in  all  things,  knowing 
not  how  we  tasked  him. 

For  on  him  each  new  day  laid  command,  every  tyran- 
nous hour, 

To  confront,  or  confirm,  or  make  smooth  some  dread 
issue  of  power; 

77 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

To  deliver  true  judgment  aright  at  the  instant,  unaided, 
In  the  strict,  level,  ultimate  phrase  that  allowed  or 

dissuaded; 
To  foresee,  to  allay,  to  avert  from  us  perils  unnumbered, 
To  stand  guard  on  our  gates  when  he  guessed  that  the 

watchmen  had  slumbered; 
To  win  time,  to  turn  hate,  to  woo  folly  to  service  and, 

mightily  schooling 
His  strength  to  the  use  of  his  Nations,  to  rule  as  not 

ruling. 
These  were  the  works  of  our  King;  Earth's  peace  was 

the  proof  of  them. 
God  gave  him  great  works  to  fulfil,  and  to  us  the  behoof 

of  them. 
We  accepted  his  toil  as  our  right — none  spared,  none 

excused  him. 
When  he  was  bowed  by  his  burden  his  rest  was  refused 

him. 
We  troubled  his  age  with  our  weakness — the  blacker 

our  shame  to  us ! 
Hearing  his  People  had  need  of  him,  straightway  he 

came  to  us. 


As  he  received  so  he  gave — nothing  grudged,  naught 

denying, 
Not  even  the  last  gasp  of  his  breath  when  he  strove  for 

us,  dying. 
For  our  sakes,  without  question,  he  put  from  him  all 

that  he  cherished. 
Simply  as  any  that  serve  him  he  served  and  he  perished. 
All  that  Kings  covet  was  his,  and  he  flung  it  aside  for  us. 
Simply  as  any  that  die  in  his  service  he  died  for  us. 

78 


THE  DEAD  KING 

Who  in  the  Realm  to-day  has  choice  of  the  easy  road  or 
the  hard  to  tread  ? 
And,  much  concerned  for  his  own  estate,  would  sell 
his  soul  to  remain  in  the  sun  ? 

Let  him  depart  nor  look  on  Our  dead. 
Our  King  asks  nothing  of  any  man  more  than  Our 
King  himself  has  done. 


79 


A  DEATH-BED 

HIS  is  the  State  above  the  Law. 

The  State  exists  for  the  State  alone.' 
[This  is  a  gland  at  the  back  of  the  jaw. 
And  an  answering  lump  by  the  collar-bone.] 


T 


Some  die  shouting  in  gas  or  fire; 

Some  die  silent,  by  shell  and  shot. 
Some  die  desperate,  caught  on  the  wire; 

Some  die  suddenly.     This  will  not. 

'Regis  suprema  Voluntas  lex' 

[7/  will  follow  the  regular  course  of — throats.] 
Some  die  pinned  by  the  broken  decks, 

Some  die  sobbing  between  the  boats. 

Some  die  eloquent,  pressed  to  death 

By  the  sliding  trench  as  their  friends  can  hear. 
Some  die  wholly  in  half  a  breath. 

Some — give  trouble  for  half  a  year. 

'There  is  neither  Evil  nor  Good  in  life 
Except  as  the  needs  of  the  State  ordain.' 

[Since  it  is  rather  too  late  for  the  knife. 
All  we  can  do  is  to  mask  the  pain.] 

80 


A  DEATH-BED 

Some  die  saintly  in  faith  and  hope — 
One  died  thus  in  a  prison-yard — 

Some  die  broken  by  rape  or  the  rope; 
Some  die  easily.    This  dies  hard. 


*  I  will  dash  to  pieces  who  bar  my  way. 

Woe  to  the  traitor!    Woe  to  the  weak!' 
[Let  him  write  what  he  wishes  to  say. 

It  tires  him  out  if  he  tries  to  speak.] 


Some  die  quietly.     Some  abound 
In  loud  self-pity.     Others  spread 

Bad  morale  through  the  cots  around 
This  is  a  type  that  is  better  dead. 


*The  war  was  forced  on  me  by  my  foes. 

All  that  I  sought  was  the  right  to  live.' 
[Don't  be  afraid  of  a  triple  dose; 

The  pain  will  neutralize  half  we  give. 


Here  are  the  needles.     See  that  he  dies 
While  the  effects  of  the  drug  endure.     .     . 

What  is  the  question  he  asks  with  his  eyes  ?- 
Yes,  All-Highest,  to  God,  be  sure.] 


81 


GEHAZI 

WHENCE  comest  thou,  Gehazi 
So  reverend  to  behold, 
In  scarlet  and  in  ermines 
And  chain  of  England's  gold?' 
'  From  following  after  Naaman 

To  tell  him  all  is  well, 
Whereby,  my  zeal  hath  made  me 
A  Judge  in  Israel.' 


Well  done,  well  done,  Gehazi, 

Stretch  forth  thy  ready  hand, 
Thou  barely  'scaped  from  judgment. 

Take  oath  to  judge  the  land, 
Unswayed  by  gift  of  money 

Or  privy  bribe,  more  base. 
Of  knowledge  which  is  profit 

In  any  market-place. 


Search  out  and  probe,  Gehazi, 
As  thou  of  all  canst  try. 

The  truthful,  well-weighed  answer 
That  tells  the  blacker  lie — 
82 


GEHAZI 

The  loud,  uneasy  virtue 
The  anger  feigned  at  will, 

To  overbear  a  witness 
And  make  the  Court  keep  still. 


Take  order  now,  Gehazi, 

That  no  man  talk  aside 
In  secret  with  his  judges 

The  while  his  case  is  tried. 
Lest  he  should  show  them — reason 

To  keep  a  matter  hid, 
And  subtly  lead  the  questions 

Away  from  what  he  did. 
Thou  mirror  of  uprightness, 

What  ails  thee  at  thy  vows? 
What  means  the  risen  whiteness 

Of  the  skin  between  thy  brows? 


The  boils  that  shine  and  burrow. 

The  sores  that  slough  and  bleed- 
The  leprosy  of  Naaman 
On  thee  and  all  thy  seed? 
Stand  up,  stand  up,  Gehazi, 

Draw  close  thy  robe  and  go, 
Gehazi,  Judge  in  Israel, 
A  leper  white  as  snow! 


83 


THE  VIRGINITY 

TRY  as  he  will,  no  man  breaks  wholly  loose 
From  his  first  love,  no  matter  who  she  be. 
Oh,  was  there  ever  sailor  free  to  choose, 
That  didn't  settle  somewhere  near  the  sea? 


Myself,  it  don't  excite  me  nor  amuse 
To  watch  a  pack  o'  shipping  on  the  sea, 
But  I  can  understand  my  neighbour's  views 
From  certain  things  which  have  occurred  to  me. 


Men  must  keep  touch  with  things  they  used  to  use 
To  earn  their  living,  even  when  they  are  free; 
And  so  come  back  upon  the  least  excuse — 
Same  as  the  sailor  settled  near  the  sea. 


He  knows  he's  never  going  on  no  cruise — 
He  knows  he's  done  and  finished  wilh  the  sea; 
And  yet  he  likes  to  feel  she's  there  to  use — 
If  he  should  ask  her — as  she  used  to  be. 

84 


THE  VIRGINITY 

Even  though  she  cost  him  all  he  had  to  lose, 
Even  though  she  made  him  sick  to  hear  or  see, 
Still,  what  she  left  of  him  will  mostly  choose 
Her  skirts  to  sit  by.     How  comes  such  to  be? 


Parsons  in  pulpits,  tax-payers  in  pews, 

Kings  on  ijoiw  thrones,  you  know  as  well  as  me. 

We've  only  one  virginity  to  lose, 

And  where  we  lost  it  there  our  hearts  will  be  ! 


85 


A  PILGRIM'S  WAY 

I   DO  not  look  for  holy  saints  to  guide  me  on  my  way, 
Or  male  and  female  devilkins  to  lead  my  feet 
astray. 
If  these  are  added,  I  rejoice — if  not,  I  shall  not  mind, 
So  long  as  I  have  leave  and  choice  to  meet  my  fellow- 
kind. 
For  as  we  come  and  as  we  go  (and  deadly  soon  go 

we!) 
The  people.  Lord,  Thy  people,  are  good  enough  for  me ! 

Thus  I  will  honour  pious  men  whose  virtue  shines  so 

bright 
(Though  none  are  more  amazed  than  I   when   I   by 

chance  do  right), 
And  I  will  pity  foolish  men  for  woe  their  sins  have  bred 
(Though  ninety-nine  per  cent,  of  mine  I  brought  on 

my  own  head). 
And,  Amorite  or  Eremite,  or  General  Averagee, 
The  people.  Lord,  Thy  people,  are  good  enough  for 

me! 

And  when  they  bore  me  overmuch,  I  will  not  shake 

mine  ears, 
Recalling  many  thousand  such  whom  I  have  bored  to 

tears. 

86 


A  PILGRIM'S  WAY 

And  when  they  labour  to  impress,  I  will  not  doubt 

nor  scofT; 
Since   I   myself   have   done   no   less   and — sometimes 
pulled  it  off. 
Yea,  as  we  are  and  we  are  not,  and  we  pretend  to  be. 
The  people,  Lord,  Thy  people,  are  good  enough  for 
me! 


And  when  they  work  me  random  wrong,  as  oftentimes 
hath  been, 

I  will  not  cherish  hate  too  long  (my  hands  are  none 
too  clean). 

And  when  they  do  me  random  good  I  will  not  feign 
surprise. 

No  more  than  those  whom  I  have  cheered  with  way- 
side charities. 
But,  as  we  give  and  as  we  take — whate'er  our  tak- 
ings be — 
The  people.  Lord,  Thy  people,  are  good  enough  for 
me! 


But  when  I  meet  with  frantic  folk  who  sinfully  declare 
There  is  no  pardon  for  their  sin,  the  same  I  will  not 

spare 
Till  I  have  proved  that  Heaven  and  Hell  which  in  our 

hearts  we  have 
Show  nothing  irredeemable  on  either  side  the  grave. 
For  as  we  live  and  as  we  die — if  utter  Death  there 

be— 
The  people.  Lord,  Thy  people,  are  good  enough  for 
me! 

87 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Deliver  me  from  every  pride — the  Middle,  High,  and 

Low — 
That  bars  me  from  a  brother's  side,  whatever  state 

he  show. 
And  purge  me  from  all  heresies  of  thought  and  speech 

and  pen 
That  bid  me  judge  him  otherwise  than  I  am  judged. 
Amen  ! 
That  I  may  sing  of  Crowd  or  King  or  road-borne 

company, 
That  I  may  labour  in  my  day,  vocation  and  degree. 
To  prove  the  same  in  deed  and  name,   and  hold 

unshakenly 
(Where'er  I  go,  whate'er  I  know,  whoe'er  my  neigh- 
bour be) 
This  single  faith  in  Life  and  Death  and  all  Eternity: 
'The  people,   Lord,  Thy  people,   are  good  enough 
for  me!' 


SS 


THE  OLDEST  SONG 
(For  before  Eve  was  Lilith. — Old  Tale.) 


T 


HESE  were  never  your  true  love's  eyes. 

Why  do  you  feign  that  you  love  them? 
You  that  broke  from  their  constancies, 
And  the  wide  calm  brows  above  them ! 


This  was  never  your  true  love's  speech. 

Why  do  you  thrill  when  you  hear  it? 
You  that  have  ridden  out  of  its  reach 

The  width  of  the  world  or  near  it ! 


This  was  never  your  true  love's  hair, — 
You  that  chafed  when  it  bound  you 

Screened  from  knowledge  or  shame  or  care, 
In  the  night  that  it  made  around  you ! 


*All  these  things  I  know,  I  know. 

And  thafs  why  my  heart  is  breaking  r 
Then  what  do  you  gain  by  pretending  so? 

*  The  joy  of  an  old  wound  waking.' 


89 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY 

PRIMITIVE 

I    ATE  my  fill  of  a  whale  that  died 
And  stranded  after  a  month  at  sea. 
There  is  a  pain  in  my  inside. 
Why  have  the  Gods  afflicted  me? 
Ow!     I  am  purged  till  I  am  a  wraith! 
Wow!     I  am  sick  till  I  cannot  see! 
What  is  the  sense  of  Religion  and  Faith? 
Look  how  the  Gods  have  afflicted  me! 


PAGAN 

How  can  the  skin  of  rat  or  mouse  hold 

Anything  more  than  a  harmless  flea?     .     . 
The  burning  plague  has  taken  my  household. 

Why  have  my  Gods  afflicted  me? 
All  my  kith  and  kin  are  deceased, 

Though  they  were  as  good  as  good  could  be. 
I  will  out  and  batter  the  family  priest, 

Because  my  Gods  have  alllicted  me. 

90 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY 


MEDIAEVAL 


My  privy  and  well  drain  into  each  other 

After  the  custom  of  Christendie.     .     .     . 
Fevers  and  fluxes  are  wasting  my  mother. 

Why  has  the  Lord  afflicted  me? 
The  Saints  are  helpless  for  all  I  offer — 

So  are  the  clergy  I  used  to  fee. 
Henceforward  I  keep  my  cash  in  my  coffer, 

Because  the  Lord  has  afflicted  me. 


MATERIAL 

I  run  eight  hundred  hens  to  the  acre. 

They  die  by  dozens  mysteriously.     .     .     . 
I  am  more  than  doubtful  concerning  my  Maker. 

Why  has  the  Lord  afflicted  me? 
What  a  return  for  all  my  endeavour — 

Not  to  mention  the  L.  S.  D.! 
I  am  an  atheist  now  and  for  ever, 

Because  this  God  has  afflicted  me! 


PROGRESSIVE 

Money  spent  on  an  Army  or  Fleet 

Is  homicidal  lunacy.     .     . 
My  son  has  been  killed  in  the  Mons  retreat. 

Why  is  the  Lord  afflicting  me? 
Why  are  murder,  pillage  and  arson 

And  rape  allowed  by  the  Deity? 
I  will  write  to  the  Times,  deriding  our  parson, 

Because  my  God  has  afflicted  me. 

91 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

CHORUS 

We  had  a  kettle :  we  let  it  leak : 
Our  not  repairing  it  made  it  worse. 

We  haven't  had  any  tea  for  a  week.     .     .     , 
The  bottom  is  out  of  the  Universe! 


CONCLUSION 

This  was  none  of  the  good  Lord's  pleasure, 

For  the  Spirit  He  breathed  in  Man  is  free; 
But  what  comes  after  is  measure  for  measure. 

And  not  a  God  that  afllicteth  thee. 
As  was  the  sowing  so  the  reaping 

Is  now  and  evermore  shall  be. 
Thou  art  delivered  to  thy  own  keeping. 

Only  Thyself  hath  afllicted  thee! 


92 


A  SONG  AT  COCK-CROW 

'IHe  autem  iterum  negavit.' 

THE  first  time  that  Peter  denied  his  Lord 
He  shrank  from  the  cudgel,  the  scourge  and  the 
cord, 
But  followed  far  off  to  see  what  they  would  do. 
Till  the  cock  crew — till  the  cock  crew — 
After  Gethsemane,  till  the  cock  crew! 

The  first  time  that  Peter  denied  his  Lord 

'Twas  only  a  maid  in  the  palace  who  heard. 

As  he  sat  by  the  fire  and  warmed  himself  through. 

Then  the  cock  crew!     Then  the  cock  crew! 

('Thou  also  art  one  of  them.')     Then  the  cock  crew! 

The  first  time  that  Peter  denied  his  Lord 

He  had  neither  the  Throne,   nor  the  Keys  nor  the 

Sword — 
A  poor  silly  fisherman,  what  could  he  do 
When  the  cock  crew — when  the  cock  crew — 
But  weep  for  his  wickedness  when  the  cock  crew? 


The  next  time  that  Peter  denied  his  Lord 
He  was  Fisher  of  Men,  as  foretold  by  the  Word, 

93 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

With  the  Crown  on  his  brow  and  the  Cross  on  his  shoe, 
When  the  cock  crew — when  the  cock  crew — 
In  Flanders  and  Picardy  when  the  cock  crew. 


The  next  time  that  Peter  denied  his  Lord 

'Twas  Mary  the  Mother  in  Heaven  Who  heard. 

And  She  grieved  for  the  maidens  and  wives  that  they 

slcv/ 
When  the  cock  crew — when  the  cock  crew — 
At  Tirmonde  and  Aerschott  when  the  cock  crew. 


The  next  time  that  Peter  denied  his  Lord 

The  Babe  in  the  Manger  awakened  and  stirred, 

And  He  stretched  out  His  arms  for  the  playmates  He 

knew — 
When  the  cock  crew — when  the  cock  crew — 
But  the  waters  had  covered  them  when  the  cock  crew. 


The  next  time  that  Peter  denied  his  Lord 
'Twas  Earth  in  her  agony  waited  his  word, 
But  he  sat  by  the  fire  and  naught  would  he  do. 
Though  the  cock  crew — though  the  cock  crew— 
Over  all  Christendom,  though  the  cock  crew. 


The  last  time  that  Peter  denied  his  Lord, 
The  Father  took  from  him  the  Keys  and  the  Sword, 
And  the  Mother  and  Babe  brake  his  Kingdom  in  two, 
When  the  cock  crew — when  the  cock  crew — 
(Because  of  his  wickedness)  when  the  cock  crew  1 

94 


THE  FEMALE  OF  THE  SPECIES 
1911 

WHEN  the  Himalayan  peasant  meets  the  he- 
bear  in  his  pride, 
He  shouts  to  scare  the  monster,  who  will  often 
turn  aside. 
But  the  she-bear  thus  accosted  rends  the  peasant  tooth 

and  nail. 
For  the  female  of  the  species  is  more  deadly  than  the 
male. 


When  Nag  the  basking  cobra  hears  the  careless  foot 

of  man, 
He  will  sometimes  wriggle  sideways  and  avoid  it  as  he 

can. 
But  his  mate  makes  no  such  motion  where  she  camps 

beside  the  trail. 
For  the  female  of  the  species  is  more  deadly  than  the 

male. 


When  the  early  Jesuit  fathers  preached  to  Hurons  and 

Ghoctaws, 
They  prayed  to  be  delivered  from  the  vengeance  of 

the  squaws. 

95 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

'Twas  the  women,  not  the  warriors,  turned  those  stark 

enthusiasts  pale. 
For  the  female  of  the  species  is  more  deadly  than  the 

male. 

Man's  timid  heart  is  bursting  with  the  things  he  must 

not  say. 
For  the  Woman  that  God  gave  him  isn't  his  to  give 

away; 
But  when  hunter  meets  with  husband,  each  confirms  the 

other's  tale — 
The  female  of  the  species  is  more  deadly  than  the  male. 

Man,  a  bear  in  most  relations — worm  and  savage 
otherwise, — 

Man  propounds  negotiations,  Man  accepts  the  com- 
promise. 

Very  rarely  will  he  squarely  push  the  logic  of  a  fact 

To  its  ultimate  conclusion  in  unmitigated  act. 

Fear,  or  foolishness,  impels  him,  ere  he  lay  the  wicked 

low. 
To  concede  some  form  of  trial  even  to  his  fiercest  foe. 
Mirth  obscene  diverts  his  anger!      Doubt  and  Pity 

oft  perplex 
Him  in  dealing  with  an  issue — to  the  scandal  of  The 

Sex! 

But  the  Woman  that  God  gave  him,  every  fibre  of 

her  frame 
Proves  her  launched  for  one  sole  issue,   armed  and 

engined  for  the  same; 

96 


THE  FEMALE  OF  THE  SPECIES 

And  to  serve  that  single  issue,  lest  the  generations  fail, 
The  female  of  the  species  must  be  deadlier  than  the 
male. 


She  who  faces  Death  by  torture  for  each  life  beneath 

her  breast 
May  not  deal  in  doubt  or  pity — must  not  swerve  for 

fact  or  jest. 
These  be  purely  male  diversions — not  in  these  her 

honour  dwells. 
She  the  Other  Law  we  live  by,  is  that  Law  and  nothing 

else. 


She  can  bring  no  more  to  living  than  the  powers  that 

make  her  great 
As  the  Mother  of  the  Infant  and  the  Mistress  of  the 

Mate! 
And  when  Babe  and  Man  are  lacking  and  she  strides 

unclaimed  to  claim 
Her  right  as  femme  (and  baron),  her  equipment  is  the 

same. 


She  is  wedded  to  convictions — in  default  of  grosser  ties; 
Her  contentions  are  her  children,  Heaven  help  him  who 

denies  I — 
He  will  meet  no  suave  discussion,  but  the  instant, 

white-hot,  wild. 
Wakened  female  of  the  species  warring  as  for  spouse 

and  child. 

97 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Unprovoked  and  awful  charges — even  so  the  she-bear 

fights. 
Speech  that  drips,  corrodes,  and  poisons — even  so  the 

cobra  bites. 
Scientific  vivisection  of  one  nerve  till  it  is  raw 
And  the  victim  writhes  in  anguish — like  the  Jesuit  with 

the  squaw! 


So  it  comes  that  Man  the  coward,  when  he  gathers  to 

confer 
With  his  fellow-braves  in  council,  dare  not  leave  a 

place  for  her 
Where,  at  war  with  Life  and  Conscience,  he  uplifts 

his  erring  hands 
To  some  God  of  Abstract  Justice — which  no  woman 

understands. 


And    Man   knows    it!    Knows,    moreover,    that    the 

Woman  that  God  gave  him 
Must  command  but  may  not  govern — shall  enthral 

but  not  enslave  him. 
And   She  knows,   because  She  warns  him,   and  Her 

instincts  never  fail, 
That  the  Female  of  Her  Species  is  more  deadly  than 

the  Male. 


98 


EPITAPHS 

*  Equality  of  Sacrifice' 

A.     'I  was  a  "have."'     B.     'I  was  a"have-not."' 
(Together).    'What  hast  thou  given  which  I  gave  not?' 

A  Servant 

We  were  together  since  the  War  began. 
He  was  my  servant — and  the  better  man. 

A  Son 

My  son  was  killed  while  laughing  at  some  jest.     I 

would  I  knew 
What  it  was,  and  it  might  serve  me  in  a  time  when 

jests  are  few. 

An  Only  Son 

I  have  slain  none  except  my  Mother.     She 
(Blessing  her  slayer)  died  of  grief  for  me. 

Ex-Clerk 

Pity  not!    The  Army  gave 
Freedom  to  a  timid  slave: 
In  which  Freedom  did  he  find 
Strength  of  body,  will,  and  mind: 
99 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

By  which  strength  he  came  to  prove 
Mirth,  Companionship,  and  Love: 
For  which  Love  to  Death  he  went: 
In  which  Death  he  lies  content. 


The  Wonder 

Body  and  Spirit  I  surrendered  whole 
To  harsh  Instructors — and  received  a  soul     .     .     . 
If  mortal  man  could  change  me  through  and  through 
From  all  I  was — what  may  The  God  not  do? 

Hindu  Sepoy  in  France 

This  man  in  his  own  country  prayed  we  know  not  to 

what  Powers. 
We  pray  Them  to  reward  him  for  his  bravery  in  ours. 

The  Coward 

I  could  not  look  on  Death,  which  being  known, 
Men  led  me  to  him,  blindfold  and  alone. 

Shock 

My  name,  my  speech,  my  self  I  had  forgot. 
My  wife  and  children  came — I  knew  them  not. 
I  died.     My  Mother  followed.     At  her  call 
And  on  her  bosom  I  remembered  all. 

A  Grave  near  Cairo 

Gods  of  the  Nile,  should  this  stout  fellow  here 
Get  out — get  out!    He  knows  not  shame  nor  fear. 

100 


EPITAPHS 

Pelicans  in  the  Wilderness 
(a  grave  near  halfa) 

The  blown  sand  heaps  on  me,  that  none  may  learn 
Where  I  am  laid  for  whom  my  children  grieve.     .     . 

0  wings  that  beat  at  dawning,  ye  return 
Out  of  the  desert  to  your  young  at  eve! 

The  Favour 

Death  favoured  me  from  the  first,   well  knowing  I 
could  not  endure 
To  wait  on  him  day  by  day.     He  quitted  my  betters 
and  came 
Whistling  over  the  fields,  and,  when  he  had  made  all 
sure, 
*Thy  line  is  at  end,'  he  said,  'but  at  least  I  have 
saved  its  name.' 

The  Beginner 

On  the  first  hour  of  my  first  day 

In  the  front  trench  I  fell. 
(Children  in  boxes  at  a  play 

Stand  up  to  watch  it  well.) 

R.  A.  F.  (Aged  Eighteen) 

Laughing  through  clouds,  his  milk-teeth  still  unshed. 
Cities  and  men  he  smote  from  overhead. 
His  deaths  delivered,  he  returned  to  play 
Childlike,  with  childish  things  now  put  away. 

101 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

The  Refined  Man 

I  was  of  delicate  mind.     I  went  aside  for  my  needs, 
Disdaining  the  common  ofTice.     I  was  seen  from  afar 
and  killed.     .     .     . 
How  is  this  matter  for  mirth?     Let  each  man  be  judged 
by  his  deeds. 
/  have  paid  my  price  to  live  with  myself  on  the  terms 
that  I  willed. 


Native  Water-Carrier  (M.  E.  F.) 

Prometheus  brought  down  fire  to  men. 

This  brought  up  water. 
The  Gods  are  jealous — now,  as  then, 

They  gave  no  quarter. 


Bombed  in  London 

On  land  and  sea  I  strove  with  anxious  care 
To  escape  conscription.     It  was  in  the  air! 


The  Sleepy  Sentinel 

Faithless  the  watch  that  I  kept:  now  I  have  none  to 

keep. 
I  was  slain  because  I  slept:  now  I  am  slain  I  sleep. 
Let  no  man  reproach  me  again,  whatever  watch  is 

unkept — 
I  sleep  because  I  am  slain.     They  slew  me  because  I 

slept. 

102 


EPITAPHS 


Batteries  out  of  Ammunition 

If  any  mourn  us  in  the  workshop,  say 
We  died  because  the  shift  kept  hohday. 


Common  Form 

If  any  question  why  we  died, 
Tell  them,  because  our  fathers  Ued. 


A  Dead  Statesman 

I  could  not  dig:  I  dared  not  rob: 
Therefore  I  lied  to  please  the  mob. 
Now  all  my  lies  are  proved  untrue, 
And  I  must  face  the  men  I  slew. 
What  tale  shall  save  me  here  among 
Mine  angry  and  defrauded  young? 

The  Rebel 

If  I  had  clamoured  at  Thy  Gate 

For  gift  of  Life  on  Earth, 
And,  thrusting  through  the  souls  that  wait, 

Flung  headlong  into  birth — 
Even  then,  even  then,  for  gin  and  snare 

About  my  pathway  spread. 
Lord,  I  had  mocked  Thy  thoughtful  care 

Before  I  joined  the  Dead! 
But  now?     ...     I  was  beneath  Thy  Hand 

Ere  yet  the  Planets  came. 
And  now — though  Planets  pass,  I  stand 

The  witness  to  Thy  shame. 
103 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

The  Obedient 

Daily,  though  no  ears  attended, 

Did  my  prayers  arise. 
Daily,  though  no  fire  descended 

Did  I  sacrifice.     ... 
Though  my  darkness  did  not  lift, 

Though  I  faced  no  lighter  odds, 
Though  the  Gods  bestowed  no  gift, 

None  the  less, 
.   None  the  less,  I  served  the  Gods ! 

A  Drifter  off  Tarentum 

He  from  the  wind-bitten  north  with  ship  and  com- 
panions descended. 
Searching  for  eggs  of  death  spawned  by  invisible 
hulls. 
Many  he  found  and  drew  forth.     Of  a  sudden  the 
fishery  ended 
In  flame  and  a  clamorous  breath  not  new  to  the 
eye-pecking  gulls. 

Destroyers  in  Collision 

For  Fog  and  Fate  no  charm  is  found 

To  lighten  or  amend. 
I,  hurrying  to  my  bride,  was  drowned— 

Cut  down  by  my  best  friend. 

Convoy  Escort 

I  was  a  shepherd  to  fools 
Causelessly  bold  or  afraid. 
104 


EPITAPHS 

They  would  not  abide  by  my  rules. 
Yet  they  escaped.     For  I  stayed. 


Unknown  Female  Corpse 

Headless,  lacking  foot  and  hand, 
Horrible  I  come  to  land. 
I  beseech  all  women's  sons 
Know  I  was  a  mother  once. 


Raped  and  Revenged 

One  used  and  butchered  me:  another  spied 
Me  broken — for  which  thing  a  hundred  died. 
So  it  was  learned  among  the  heathen  hosts 
How  much  a  freeborn  woman's  favour  costs. 


Salonikan  Grave 

I  have  watched  a  thousand  days 
Push  out  and  crawl  into  night 
Slowly  as  tortoises. 
Now  I,  too,  follow  these. 
It  is  fever,  and  not  fight — 
Time,  not  battle — that  slays. 


The  Bridegroom 

Call  me  not  false,  beloved. 

If,  from  thy  scarce-known  breast 
So  little  time  removed. 

In  other  arms  I  rest. 
105 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

For  this  more  ancient  bride 

Whom  coldly  I  embrace 
Was  constant  at  my  side 

Before  I  saw  thy  face. 


Our  marriage,  often  set — 
By  miracle  delayed — 

At  last  is  consummate, 
And  cannot  be  unmade. 


Live,  then,  whom  Life  shall  cure, 

Almost,  of  Memory, 
And  leave  us  to  endure 

Its  immortality. 


V.  A.  D.  (Mediterranean) 

Ah,  would  swift  ships  had  never  been,  for  then  we 

n'er  had  found, 
These  harsh  ^Egean  rocks  between,  this  little  virgin 

drowned. 
Whom  neither  spouse  nor  child  shall  mourn,  but  men 

she  nursed  through  pain 
And — certain  keels  for  whose  return  the  heathen  look 

in  vain. 


106 


'THE  CITY  OF  BRASS' 

1909 

(*Here  was  a  people  whom  after  their  works  thou  shalt 
see  wept  over  for  their  lost  dominion:  and  in  this 
palace  is  the  last  information  respecting  lords  col- 
lected in  the  dust.' — The  Arabian  Nights.) 

/'N  a  land  that  the  sand  overlays — the  ways  to  her  gates 
are  untrod — 
A  multitude  ended  their  days  whose  fates  were  made 
splendid  by  God, 
Till  they  grew  drunk  and  were  smitten  with  madness 

and  went  to  their  fatly 
And  of  these  is  a  story  written:  but  Allah  alone  knoweth 
all! 


When  the  wine  stirred  in  their  heart  their  bosoms 
dilated. 

They  rose  to  suppose  themselves  kings  over  all  things 
created — 

To  decree  a  new  earth  at  a  birth  without  labour  or 
sorrow — 

To  declare:     *We  prepare  it  to-day  and  inherit  to- 
morrow.' 

107 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

They  chose  themselves  prophets  and  priests  of  minute 

understanding, 
Men  swift  to  see  done,  and  outrun,  their  extremest 

commanding — 
Of  the  tribe  which  describe  with  a  jibe  the  perversions 

of  Justice — 
Panders  avowed  to  the  crowd  whatsoever  its  lust  is. 

Swiftly  these  pulled  down  the  walls  that  their  fathers 

had  made  them — 
The  impregnable  ramparts  of  old,  they  razed  and  relaid 

them 
As  playgrounds  of  pleasure  and  leisure  with  limitless 

entries, 
And  havens  of  rest  for  the  wastrels  where  once  walked 

the  sentries; 

And  because  there  was  need  of  more  pay  for  the  shouters 

and  marchers. 
They  disbanded  in  face  of  their  foemen  their  bowmen 

and  archers. 
They   replied   to   their   well-wishers'    fears — to    their 

enemies'  laughter. 
Saying:     'Peace!    We  have  fashioned  a  God  Which 

shall  save  us  hereafter. 
Wc  ascribe  all  dominion  to  man  in  his  factions  con- 
ferring, 
And  have  given  to  numbers  the  Name  of  the  Wisdom 

unerring.' 
They  said:     *Who  has  hate  in  his  soul?    Who  has 

envied  his  neighbour? 
Let  him  arise  and  control  both  that  man  and  his 

labour.' 

108 


'THE  CITY  OF  BRASS' 

They  said:  'Who  is  eaten  by  sloth?  Whose  unthrift 
has  destroyed  him? 

He  shall  levy  a  tribute  from  all  because  none  have 
employed  him.' 

They  said:  'Who  hath  toiled?  Who  hath  striven, 
and  gathered  possession? 

Let  him  be  spoiled.  He  hath  given  full  proof  of  trans- 
gression.' 

They  said:  'Who  is  irked  by  the  Law?  Though 
we  may  not  remove  it. 

If  he  lend  us  his  aid  in  this  raid,  we  will  set  him  above 

itr 

So  the  robber  did  judgment  again  upon  such  as  dis- 
pleased him, 

The  slayer,  too,  boasted  his  slain,^and  the  judges  re- 
leased him. 


As  for  their  kinsmen  far  off,  on  the  skirts  of  the  nation, 
They  harried   all  earth  to  make  sure  none  escaped 

reprobation, 
They  awakened  unrest  for  a  jest  in  their  newly-won 

borders. 
And  jeered  at  the  blood  of  their  brethren  betrayed  by 

their  orders. 
They  instructed  the  ruled  to  rebel,  their  rulers  to  aid 

them; 
And,  since  such  as  obeyed  them  not  fell,  their  Viceroys 

obeyed  them. 
When  the  riotous  set  them  at  naught  they  said :  '  Praise 

the  upheaval! 
For  the  show  and  the  word  and  the  thought  of  Dominion 

is  evil!' 

109 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

They  unwound  and  flung  from  them  with  rage,  as  a 

rag  that  defiled  them 
The  imperial  gains  of  the  age  which  their  forefathers 

piled  them. 
They  ran  panting  in  haste  to  lay  waste  and  embitter 

for  ever 
The  wellsprings  of  Wisdom  and  Strength  which  are 

Faith  and  Endeavour. 
They  nosed  out  and  digged  up  and  dragged  forth  and 

exposed  to  derision 
All  doctrine  of  purpose  and  worth  and  restraint  and 

prevision : 

And  it  ceased,  and  God  granted  them  all  things  for 

which  they  had  striven, 
And  the  heart  of  a  beast  in  the  place  of  a  man's  heart 

was  given.    .     .     . 

When  they  were  fullest  of  wine  and  most  flagrant  in 

error. 
Out  of  the  sea  rose  a  sign — out  of  Heaven  a  terror. 
Then  they  saw,  then  they  heard,  then  they  knew — 

for  none  troubled  to  hide  it, 
An  hosc  had  prepared  their  destruction,  but  still  they 

denied  it. 
They  denied  what  they  dared  not  abide  if  it  came  to 

the  trial, 
But  the  Sword  that  was  forged  while  they  lied  did  not 

heed  their  denial. 
It  drove  home,  and  no  time  was  allowed  to  the  crowd 

that  was  driven. 
The  preposterous-minded  were  cowed — they  thought 

time  would  be  given. 

110 


'THE  CITY  OF  BRASS' 

There  was  no  need  of  a  steed  nor  a  lance  to  pursue 

them; 
It  was  decreed  their  own  deed,  and  not  chance,  should 

undo  them. 
The  tares  they  had  laughingly  sown  were  ripe  to  the 

reaping, 
The  trust  they  had  leagued  to  disown  was  removed 

from  their  keeping. 
The  eaters  of  other  men's  bread,  the  exempted  from 

hardship, 
The  excusers  of  impotence  fled,  abdicating  their  ward- 
ship. 
For  the  hate  they  had  taught  through  the  State  brought 

the  State  no  defender. 
And  it  passed  from  the  roll  of  the  Nations  in  headlong 

surrender! 


Ill 


JUSTICE 
October,  1918 

^ CROSS  a  world  where  all  men  grieve 
yj^        And  grieving  strive  the  more, 

The  great  days  range  like  tides  and  leave 
Our  dead  on  every  shore. 
Heavy  the  load  we  undergo. 

And  our  own  hands  prepare. 
If  we  have  parley  with  the  foe. 
The  load  our  sons  must  bear. 


Before  we  loose  the  word 

That  bids  new  worlds  to  birth, 
Needs  must  we  loosen  first  the  sword 

Of  Justice  upon  earth; 
Or  else  all  else  is  vain 

Since  life  on  earth  began, 
And  the  spent  world  sinks  back  again 

Hopeless  of  God  and  Man. 


A  people  and  their  King 

Through  ancient  sin  grown  strong, 
Because  they  feared  no  reckoning 

Would  set  no  bound  to  wrong; 
112 


JUSTICE 

But  now  their  hour  is  past, 
And  we  who  bore  it  find 

Evil  Incarnate  held  at  last 
To  answer  to  mankind. 


For  agony  and  spoil 

Of  nations  beat  to  dust, 

For  poisoned  air  and  tortured  soil 
And  cold,  commanded  lust. 

And  every  secret  woe 

The  shuddering  waters  saw — 

Willed  and  fulfilled  by  high  and  low- 
Let  them  relearn  the  Law. 


That  when  the  dooms  are  read, 

Not  high  nor  low  shall  say: — 
*  My  haughty  or  my  humble  head 

Has  saved  me  in  this  day.' 
That,  till  the  end  of  time. 

Their  remnant  shall  recall 
Their  fathers'  old,  confederate  crime 

Availed  them  not  at  all. 


That  neither  schools  nor  priests. 

Nor  Kings  may  build  again 
A  people  with  the  heart  of  beasts 

Made  wise  concerning  men. 
Whereby  our  dead  shall  sleep 

In  honour,  unbetrayed, 
And  we  in  faith  and  honour  keep 

That  peace  for  which  they  paid. 
113 


THE  MUSE  AMONG  THE  MOTORS 


CARMEN  GIRCULARE 

Horace. 

DELLIUS,  that  car  which,  so  they  say 
Jove's  lightnings  arm  and  Furies  scourge- 
The  terror  of  the  Appian  Way — 
Be  slow  to  urge. 

Though  reckless  Lydia  bid  thee  fly 

And  Telephus  o'ertaking  jeer. 
Nay,  sit  and  strongly  occupy 

The  lower  gear. 

They  call,  the  road  consenting  'Haste!* — ; 

Such  as  delight  in  dust  collected — 
Until  arrives  (I  too  have  raced) 

The  unexpected. 

What  ox  not  doomed  to  die  alone. 

Or  inauspicious  hound  shall  bring 
Thee  'twixt  two  kisses  to  the  throne 

Of  Hades'  King. 

I  cannot  tell;  but,  0  pursue 

Far  off  thy  Daunian  carnage  lest 
The  pallid  corpse  be  mine  to  view 

At  crowner's  quest! 

117 


THE  ADVERTISEMENT 

(In  the  manner  of  the  earlier  EngUsh) 

WHETHER  to  wander  through  straight  streets 
strictly. 
Trimly  by  towns  perfectly  paved; 
Or  after  office,  as  fitteth  thy  fancy, 
Faring  with  friends  far  among  fields; 
There  is  none  other  equal  in  action 
Sith  she  is  silent,  nimble,  unnoisome, 
Lordly  of  leather,  gaudily  gilded. 
Burgeoning  brightly  in  a  brass  bonnet, 
Certain  to  steer  well  between  wains. 


118 


THE  JUSTICE'S  TALE 

Chaucer. 

WITH  them  there  rode  a  lustie  Engineere 
Wei  skilled  to  handel  everich  waie  her  geere, 
He  was  soe  wise  ne  man  colde  showe  him 
naught 
And  out  of  Paris  was  hys  learnynge  brought 
Frontlings  mid  brazen  wheeles  and  wandes  he  sat, 
And  on  hys  head  he  bare  an  leathern  hat, 
Hee  was  soe  certaine  of  his  gouvernance, 
That,  by  the  Roode  he  tooke  everie  chaunce. 
For  simple  people  and  for  lordUngs  eke 
Hee  wolde  not  bate  a  del  but  onlie  squeeke 
Behinde  their  backes  on  an  home  hie 
Until  they  crope  into  a  piggestie. 
He  was  more  wood  than  bull  in  china-shoppe 
And  yet  for  cowes  and  dogges  wolde  hee  stop. 
Not  out  of  Marcie  but  for  preudence-sake — 
Then  hys  dependaunce  ever  was  hys  brake. 


119 


TO*A  LADY,  PERSUADING  HER  TO  A  CAR 

Ben  Jonson. 

IOVE'S  fiery  chariot,  Delia,  take 
Which  Vulcan  wrought  for  Venus'  sake, 
-^  Wings  shall  not  waft  thee,  but  a  flame 
Hot  as  my  heart — as  nobly  tame : 
Lit  by  a  spark,  less  bright,  more  wise 
Than  linked  lightnings  of  thine  eyes! 
Seated  and  ready  to  be  drawn. 
Come  not  in  muslins,  lace  or  lawn, 
But,  for  thy  thrice  imperial  worth, 
Take  all  the  sables  of  the  North, 
With  frozen  diamonds  belted  on, 
To  face  extreme  Euroclydon. 
Thus  in  our  thund'ring  toy  we'll  prove 
Which  is  more  blind,  the  Law  or  Love: 
So  may  the  jealous  Gods  prevent 
Our  fierce  and  uncontrouled  descent ! 


120 


THE  PROGRESS   OF  THE  SPARK   (XVITH 
CIRCUIT) 

Donne. 

THIS  spark  now  set,  retarded,  yet  forbears 
To  hold  her  Hght  howeverso  he  swears 
That  turns  a  metalled  crank  and,  leather  cloked, 
With  some  small  hammers  tappeth  hither  and  yon; 
Peering  as  when  she  showeth  and  when  is  gone; 
For  wait  he  must  till  the  vext  power's  evoked 
That's  one  with  the  lightnings.     Wait  in  the  showers 

soaked 
Or  by  the  road-side  sunned.     She'll  not  progress. 
Poor  soul,  here  taught  how  great  things  may  by  less 
Be  stayed,  to  file  contacts  doth  himself  address! 


121 


THE  BRAGGART 

Mat.  Prior. 

PETROLIO,  vaunting  his  Mercedes'  power 
Vows  she  can  cover  sixty  miles  an  hour. 
I  tried  the  car  of  old  and  know  she  can. 
But  dare  he  ever  do  it?     Ask  his  man ! 


122 


*WHEN  THE  JOURNEY   WAS    INTENDED    TO 

THE  CITY' 

Milton. 

WHEN  that  with  meat  and  drink  they  had  ful- 
filled 
Not  temperately  but  like  him  conceived 
In  monstrous  jest  at  Meudon,  whose  regale 
Stands  for  exemplar  of  Gargantuan  greed, 
In  his  own  name  supreme,  they  issued  forth 
Beneath  new  firmaments  and  stars  astray 
Circumvoluminant;  nor  had  they  felt 
Neither  the  passage  nor  the  sad  effects 
Of  many  cups  partaken  till  that  frost 
Wrought  on  them  hideous,  and  their  mind  deceived. 
Thus  choosing  from  a  progeny  of  roads, 
Which  seemed  but  were  not,  one  least  reasonable. 
Of  purest  moonlight  figured  on  a  wall. 
Thither  they  urged  their  chariot  whom  that  flint 
Buttressed  received,  itself  unscathed — not  they. 


123 


TO  MOTORISTS 

Herrick. 

SINCE  ye  distemper  and  defile 
Sweet  Here  by  the  measured  mile, 
Nor  aught  on  jocund  highways  heed 
Except  the  evidence  of  speed ; 
And  bear  about  your  dreadful  task 
Faces  beshrouded  neath  a  mask, 
Great  goblin  eyes  and  gluey  hands 
And  souls  enslaved  to  chains  and  bands, 
Here  shall  no  graver  curse  be  said 
Than,  though  y'  are  quick  that  ye  are  dead! 


124 


THE  TOUR 

Byron. 

THIRTEEN  as  twelve  my  Murray  always  took. 
He  was  a  publisher.     The  New  Police 
Have  neater  ways  of  bringing  men  to  book, 
So  Juan  found  himself  before  J.  Ps. 
Accused  of  storming  through  that  placid  nook 

At  practically  any  pace  you  please. 
The  Dogberry,  and  the  Waterbury  made 
It  forty  mile — five  pounds.     And  Juan  paid. 


125 


THE  IDIOT  BOY 

Wordsworth. 

HE  wandered  down  the  mountain-grade 
Beyond  the  speed  assigned — 
A  youth  whom  Justice  often  stayed 
And  generally  fined. 


He  went  alone,  and  none  might  know 

If  he  could  drive  or  steer; 
Now  he  is  in  the  ditch,  and  0! 

The  differential  gear! 


126 


THE  LANDAU 

Praed. 

THERE  was  a  landau  deep  and  wide, 
Cushioned  for  Sleep's  own  self  to  sit  on — 
The  glory  of  the  country-side 
From  Tanner's  End  to  Marlow  Ditton. 
John  of  the  broad  and  brandied  cheek 

(Well  I  recall  its  eau-de-vie  hues!) 
Drove  staid  Sir  Ralph  five  days  a  week 
At  speeds  which  we  considered  Jehu's. 


But  now  poor  John  sleeps  very  sound, 

And  neither  hears  nor  smells  the  fuss 
Of  the  young  squire's  nine  hundred  pound- 

Er — Mors  communis  omnibus' 
And  I  who  in  my  daily  stroll 

Observe  the  reckless  chauffeur  crowd  her- 
Laudator  temporis,  extol 

The  times  before  the  Act  allowed  her. 


127 


CONTRADICTIONS 

Longfellow. 

THE  drowsy  carrier  sways 
To  the  drowsy  horses'  tramp. 
His  axles  winnow  the  sprays 
Of  the  hedge  where  the  rabbit  plays 
In  the  light  of  his  single  lamp. 

He  hears  a  horn  behind 

And  the  jar  of  an  angry  bell. 
A  headlight  strikes  him  blind 
And  a  stench  o'erpowers  the  wind 

Like  a  blast  from  the  mouth  of  Hell. 

He  mends  his  swingle-bar, 

And  loud  his  curses  ring; 
But  a  mother  waiting  afar 
Hears  the  roar  of  the  doctor's  car 

Like  the  beat  of  an  angel's  wing! 

So  to  the  poet's  mood 

Motor  or  carrier's  van, 
Properly  understood, 
Be  neither  evil  nor  good — 

Ormuzd  nor  Ahriman. 
128 


FASTNESS 

Tennyson. 

THIS  is  the  end  whereto  men  toiled 
Before  thy  coachman  guessed  his  fate, 
How  thou  shouldst  leave  thy  'scutcheoned  gate 
On  that  new  wheel  which  is  the  oiled — 


To  see  the  England  Shakespeare  saw 
(Oh,  Earth,  'tis  long  since  Shallow  died! 
Yet  by  yon  farrowed  sow  may  hide 

Some  blue,  deep  minion  of  the  Law) — 


To  range  from  Ashby-de-la-Zouch 
By  Lyonesse  to  Locksley  Hall 
Or  haply,  nearer  home,  appal 

Thy  father's  sister's  staid  barouche. 


129 


THE  BEGINNER 

(After  he  has  been  extemporising  on  an  instrument) 

Browning. 

10 !     What  is  this  that  I  make — sudden,  supreme,  un- 
rehearsed— 
-^       This  that  my  clutch  in  the  crowd  pressed  at  a 
venture  has  raised? 
Forward  and  onward  I  sprang  when  I  thought  (as  I 
ought)  I  reversed. 
And  a  cab  hke  a  martagon  opes  and  I  sit  in  the 
wreckage  dazed. 
And  someone  is  taking  my  name,  and  the  driver  is 
rending  the  air 
With  cries  for  my  blood  and  my  gold,  and  a  snicker- 
ing newsboy  brings 
My  cap,  wheel-pashed  from  the  kerb.     I  must  run  her 
home  for  repair, 
Where  she  leers  with  her  bonnet  awry — flat  on  the 
nether  springs! 


130 


LADY  GERALDINE'S  HARDSHIP 

Browning. 

I  TURNED — Heaven   knows   we   women  turn   too 
much 
To  broken  reeds,  mistaken  so  for  pine 
That  shame  forbids  confession — a  handle  I  turned 
(The  wrong  one  said  the  agent  afterwards) 
And  so  flung  clean  across  your  EngUsh  street 
Through  the  shrill-tinkling  glass  of  the  shop-front — 

paused. 
Artemis  mazed  mid  gauds  to  catch  a  man, 
And  piteous  baby-caps  and  christening-gowns 
The  worse  for  being  worn  on  the  radiator! 

My  cousin  Romney  judged  me  from  the  Bench: 
Propounding  one  sleek  forty-shillinged  law 
That  takes  no  count  of  the  Woman's  Oversoul. 
I  should  have  entered,  purred  he,  by  the  door — 
The  man's  retort — the  open  obvious  door, 
But,  since  I  chose  not,  he — not  he — could  change 
The  man's  rule,  not  the  Woman's,  for  the  case. 
Ten  pounds  or  seven  days     .     .     .  Just  that     .     ,     . 
I  paid! 


131 


THE  BOTHER 

Clough. 

HASTILY  Adam  our  driver  swallowed  a  curse  in 
the  darkness — 
_        Petrol    nigh   at    end    and   something   wrong   a 
sprocket 
Made  him  speer  for  the  nearest  town  when  lo!  at  the 

crossways 
Four   blank    letterless    arms    a   virginal   signpost    ex- 
tended. 
'Look!'  thundered  Hugh  the  Radical.     'This  is  the 

England  we  boast  of — 
Bland,    white-bellied,    obese    but    utterly    useless    for 

business. 
They  are  repainting  the  signs  and  have  dropped  the  job 

in  the  middle. 
They  are  repainting  the  signs  and  traffic  may  halt  till 

they've  done  it. 
Which  is  to  say  till  the  son  of  a  gun  of  a  local  contractor, 
Having  laboriously  wiped  out  every  name  for 
Probably  thirty  miles  round,  be  minded  to  finish  his 

labour! 
Had  not  the  fool  the  sense  to  paint  in  and  paint  out 
together?' 

132 


THE  BOTHER 

Thus,  not  seeing  his  speech  belied  his  Radical  Gospel 
(Which  is  to  paint  out  the  earth  and  then  write  '  Damn' 

on  the  shutter) 
Hugh  embroidered  the  theme  imperially  and  stretched 

it 
From  some  borough  in  Wales  through  our  Australian 

possessions, 
Making  himself,  reformer  wise,  a  bit  of  a  nuisance 
Till,  with  the  help  of  Adam,  we  cast  him  out  on  the 

landscape. 


133 


THE  DYING  CHAUFFEUR 

Adam  Lindsay  Gordon. 

WHEEL  me  gently  to  the  garage,  since  my  car 
and  I  must  part — 
No  more  for  me  the  record  and  the  run. 
That  cursed  left-hand  cylinder  the  doctors  call  my 
heart 
Is  pinking  past  redemption — I  am  done! 
They'll  never  strike  a  mixture  that'll  help  me  pull  my 
load. 
My  gears  are  stripped — I  cannot  set  my  brakes. 
I  am  entered  for  the  fmals  down  the  timeless  untimed 
Road 
To  the  Maker  of  the  makers  of  all  makes! 


134 


THE  INVENTOR 

Emerson, 

TIME  and  Space  decreed  his  lot 
But  little  Man  was  quick  to  note 
When  Time  and  Space  said  Man  might  not; 
Bravely  he  answered,  'Nay — I  mote.' 


I  looked  on  old  New  England. 

Time  and  Space  stood  fast 
Men  built  altars  to  Distance 

At  every  mile  they  passed. 


Yet  sleek  with  oil,  a  Force  was  hid 

Making  mock  of  all  they  did 
Ready  at  the  opening  hour 
To  yield  up  to  Prometheus 
The  secular  and  well-drilled  Power 
The  Gods  secreted  thus. 


And  over  high  Wantastiquet 
Emulous  my  lightnings  ran, 
Unregarded  but  afret. 
To  fall  in  with  my  plan. 

135 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

I  beheld  two  Ministries 

One  of  Air  and  one  of  Earth — 

At  a  thought  I  married  these, 
And  my  New  Age  came  to  birth. 


For  rarely  my  Purpose  errs 
Though  oft  it  seemed  to  pause 

And  rods  and  cylinders 
Obey  my  planets'  laws. 


Oil  I  drew  from  the  well 

And  Franklin's  spark  from  its  blue,- 
Time  and  Distance  fell 

And  Man  went  forth  anew. 


On  the  prairie  and  on  the  street 
So  long  as  my  chariots  roll 

I  bind  wings  to  Adam's  feet. 
And  presently  to  his  soul. 


136 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTOR 

(Author  Unknown.) 

YOU  mustn't  groom  an  Arab  with  a  file. 
You  hadn't  ought  to  tension-spring  a  mule. 
You  couldn't  push  a  Brumby  fifty  mile 
And  drop  him  in  a  boiler-shed  to  cool. 
/'//  sling  you  through  six  counties  in  a  day 

I'll  hike  you  up  a  grade  of  one  in  ten. 
I'm  Duty,  Law  and  Order  under  way, 

I'm  the  Mentor  of  banana-fingered  men. 
I  will  make  you  know  your  left  hand  from  your  right. 

I  will  teach  you  not  to  drink  about  your  biz ! 
I'm  the  only  temperance  advocate  in  sight! 
I  am  all  the  Education  Act  there  is! 


137 


THE  MARRED  DRIVES  OF  WINDSOR 

Act  II— Scene  III 

Scene:     The  Boar's  Head  Tavern  in  Eastcheap. 

[Enter  Falstaff,  habited  as  a  motorist. 


Falstaff. 


Hostess. 


Falstaff. 


Here's   all   at   end   between   us,   or  I'll 
never  taste   sack   again.     Prince  or  no 
Prince,  I'll  not  ride  with  him  to  Coventry 
on  the  hinder  parts  of  a  carbonadoed 
stmk,  not  though  he  call  her  all  the  car  in 
Christendom.     Sack!     Sack!     Sack! 
I  spied  her  out  of  the  lattice.     A  fizzled 
and  a  groaned  and  a  shook  from  the  bones 
out,  Sir  John,  and  a  ran  on  her  own  im- 
pulsidges  back  and  forth  o'  Chepe,  and 
I  knew  that  there  was  but  one  way  to  it 
when  I  saw  them  fighting  at  the  handles. 
She  died  of  a  taking  of  pure  wind  on  the 
heart,  and  they  be  about  her  body  now 
with  tongs.     A  marvellous  searching  per- 
fume. Sir  John! 

He  hath  called  me  ribs;  he  hath  called  me 
tallow.  There  is  no  name  in  the  extremer 
oiliness  of  comparison  which  I  have  not 
borne  meekly.  But  to  go  masked  at 
midday;  to  wrap  my  belly  in  an  horse- 
138 


THE  MARRED  DRIVES  OF  WINDSOR 

hide  cloak  of  ten  thousand  buttons  till  I 
looked  like  a  mushroomed  dunghill;  to  be 
smoked  over  burnt  oils;  to  be  enseamed, 
moreover,  with  intolerable  greases;  and 
thus  scented,  thus  habited,  thus  vizarded 
to  leap  out — for  I  leaped,  mark  you  .  .  , 
Another  cup  of  sack!  But  here's  ven- 
geance for  my  case!  These  eyes  have 
seen  the  Lord's  Anointed  on  his  knees 
in  Chepe,  foining  with  the  key  of  Shrews- 
bury Castle,  which  Poins  had  bent  to  the 
very  crook  of  Nym's  theftuous  elbow, 
to  wake  the  dumb  devil  in  the  guts  of  her. 
*  Sweet  Hal,'  said  I,  *Are  all  horses  sold 
out  of  England,  that  thou  must  kneel 
before  the  lieges  to  any  petrol-piddling 
turnspit?'  Then  he,  Poins  and  Bardolph, 
whose  nose  blanched  with  sheer  envy  of 
her  bodywork,  begged  a  shoulder  of  me  to 
thrust  her  into  some  alley,  the  street  being 
full  of  Ephesians  of  the  old  church. 
Whereat  I — 

[Enter  Prince  and  Fluellen. 
Whereat  thou,  hearing  her  once  or  twice 
tenderly  backfire — 

Heaven  forgive  thee,  Hal!  She  thun- 
dered and  lightened  a  full  half-hour,  so 
that  Jove  himself  could  not  have  bettered 
the  instruction.  There's  a  pit  beneath 
her  now,  which  she  blew  out  of  thy 
father's  highway  the  while  I  watched, 
where  Sackerson  could  stand  to  six  dogs« 
Hearing,  I  say,  her  gentle  outcry  against 
139 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Poins'  mishandling,  thou  didst  flee  up 
Chepe  calUng  upon  the  Sheriff's  watch 
for  a  red  flag. 

Falstaff.  I?  Call  me  Jack  if  I  were  not  jack  to 
each  of  her  wheels  in  turn  till  I  am 
stamped  like  a  butter-pat  with  the  im- 
print of  her  underpinnings.  /  seek  a  red 
flag? 

Prince.  Ay,  roaring  like  a  bull. 

Falstaff.  Groans,  Hal,  groans — such  as  Atlas 
heaved.  But  she  overbore  me  at  the  last. 
Why  hast  thou  left  her?  Faugh,  that  a 
King's  son  should  ever  reek  like  a  smutty- 
wicked  lamp  upon  the  wrong  side  of  morn- 
ing! 

Prince.  There  was  Bardolph  in  the  buckbasket 

behind,  nosing  fearfully  overside  like  a 
full-wattled  turkey-poult  from  Norfolk. 
There  was  Poins  upon  his  belly  beneath 
her,  thrice  steeped  in  pure  plumbago, 
most  despairfully  clanking  of  chains  like 
the  devil  in  Brug's  Hall  window;  and 
there  were  some  four  thousand  'prentices 
at  her  tail,  crying,  'What  ho!'  and  that 
she  bumped.  Methought  'twas  no  place 
for  my  father's  son. 

Falstaff.  Take  any  man's  horses  and  hale  her  to 
bed.  The  laws  of  England  are  at  thy 
commandment,  that  the  Heir  should  not 
be  made  a  common  stink  in  the  nostrils  of 
the  lieges. 

Prince.  She'd  not  stir  for  all  Apollo's  team — not 

though  Phaeton  himself,  drunk  with  nec- 
140 


THE  MARRED  DRIVES  OF  WINDSOR 

tar,  lashed  'em  stark  mad.  Poor  Phae- 
ton! 

Hostess.  A  was  a  King's  son,  was  a  not,  and  a 
came  to's  end  by  keeping  o'  bad  company. 

Falstaff.  No  more  than  a  Uttle  horseflesh.  I  tell 
thee,  Hal,  this  England  of  ours  has  never 
looked  up  since  the  nobles  fell  to  puking 
over  oil-buckets  by  the  side  of  leather- 
jerkined  Walloons. 

Prince.  He  that  drives  me  now  is  French  as  our 

princely  cousin. 

Falstaff.  Dumain?  Hang  him  for  a  pestilent,  poke- 
eyed,  chicken-chopping,  hump-backed, 
leather-hatted,  muffle-gloved  ape!  He 
hath  been  fmed  as  often  as  he  hath 
broken  down;  and  that  is  at  every  tavern 
'twixt  here  and  York.  Dumain!  He's 
the  most  notorious  widow-maker  on  the 
Windsor  road.  His  mother  was  a  corn- 
cutter  at  Ypres,  and  his  father  a  barber 
at  Rouen,  by  which  beastly  conjunction 
he  rightly  draws  every  infirmity  that 
damns  him  in  his  trade.  He  cuts  corners 
niggardly  and  upon  the  wrong  side.  Item: 
He'll  look  behind  him  after  a  likely  wench 
in  the  hottest  press  of  Holborn,  though  he 
skid  into  the  kennel  for  it.  Item:  He 
depends  upon  his  brake  to  save  him  at 
need — a  death-bed  repentance,  Hal,  as 
hath  been  proved  ere  this,  since  grace  is 
uncertain.  Item:  He  is  too  proud  to 
clean  the  body  of  her,  but  leaves  the  care 
of  that  which  should  be  the  very  cote- 
141 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

armour  of  his  mechanic  knighthood  to  an 
unheedful  ostler.  Thus,  at  last,  he  comes 
to  overlook  even  the  oiling;  and  so  it  falls 
that  she's  where  she  must  be,  and  not 
where  thou  wouldst  have  her.  Ay,  laugh 
if  thou  wilt,  Hal,  but  a  round  worthy 
knight  need  not  fire  himself  through  three 
baronies  in  eight  hours  to  know  the  very 
essence  of  the  petard  that  hoists  him. 
Dumain  will  one  day  clutch  thee  into  Hell 
upon  the  first  or  lesser  speed. 

Prince.  Strange  that  clear  knowledge  should  so 

long  outlive  mere  nerve!  I'll  dub  Du- 
main knight  when  I  come  to  the  throne, 
if  he  be  not  hanged  first  for  murder  on  the 
highway.     'Tv/ill  save  the  state  a  pension. 

Falstaff.  So  the  lean  vice  goes  ever  before  the  solid 
virtue. 

[Confused  noises  without. 
What  riot's  afoot  now? 

Fluellen.  Riots,  look  you,  by  my  vizaments,  make 
one  noise,  but  murders,  another.  There's 
riots  in  Monmouth;  but,  by  my  viza- 
ments, look  you,  there's  murders  in  Chepe. 
Pabes  and  old  'oomen — they  howl  so 
tamnably. 

Falstaff.  Rebellion  rather!  Half  London's  calling 
on  thy  name,  Hal,  and  half  on  thy  father's. 
Well,  if  it  be  successful,  forget  not  who 
was  promised  the  reversion  of  the  Chief 
Justiceship.  Ha!  Unquestioned  rebel- 
lion, if  broken  crowns  signify  aught. 

[Enter  Heralds,  wounded, 
142 


THE  MARRED  DRIVES  OF  WINDSOR 

Heralds.       Most  gracious  lord,  the  car  that  bore  thy 
state, 
Too  long  neglected  and  adjudged  acold, 
Hath,  without  warning  or  advertisement. 
Risen  refreshed  from  her  supposed  stand 
In  unattended  revolution. 
Prince.  This  it  is  to  be  a  King's  son!    That  a 

pitiful  twelve-horse  touring-car  cannot  jar 
off  her  brakes  but  they  must  rehearse  it 
me  in  damnable  heroics.  Your  pleasure, 
gentlemen? 
Heralds.  The  blood  upon  our  boltered  brow  attests 
'Twas  Bardolph's  art  that  waked  her, 

whereat  she 
Skipped  thunderously  before  our  mazed 

eyes 
Drew  out  o'er  several  lieges  (all  with  God !), 
Battered  a  house  or  so  to  laths,  and  now 
Fumes  on  her  side  in  Holborn.     Please 
you  come! 
Prince.  Anon!     Seek  each  a  physician  according 

to  his  needs  and  revenues.     I'll  be  with 
you  anon.     [To  Falstaff.]     The  third  in 
three  weeks!     These  whoreson   German 
clock-cases    no    sooner    dint    an    honest 
English  paving-stone  than  they  inconti- 
nent lay  their  entrails  on  the  street.     Five 
hundred  and  seventy  pounds!     I'll  out 
and  pawn  the  Duchy! 
Heralds.       The  Lord  Chief  Justice  waits  thy  princely 
will, 
In  thy  dread  father's   Court  at  West- 
minster. 

143 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Falstaff.  Glasses,  Doll!  We'll  drink  to  his  de- 
liverance. A  Star  Chamber  matter,  Hal 
— a  Star  Chamber  matter! 

Heralds.  You,  too,  Sir  John  as  party  to  these  broils 
Andbreakings-forth,  in  like  attainder  stand 
For  judgment;  wherein  fail  not  at  your 
peril! 

Falstaff.  I  do  remember  now  to  have  had  some 
dealings  with  this  same  Chief  Justice.  An 
old  feeble  man,  drawn  abroad  in  a  cart, 
by  horses.  We  must  enlighten — enlighten 
him,  Hal. 

EXEUNT. 


144 


THE  MARRED  DRIVES  OF  WINDSOR 

Act  III — Scene  I 

Argument:  Prince  Henry,  Poins,  Fluellen,  Nym, 
and  Sir  John,  Falstaff,  (Bardolph  having  escaped) 
are  charged,  on  Dogberry's  evidence,  before  the  Lord 
Chief  Justice  at  Westminster,  with  exceeding  the  speed 
limit  and  leaving  their  car  unattended  in  the  street, 
Portia  defends  them.  Mr.  Justice  Shallow  has 
been  accommodated  with  a  seat  on  the  Bench. 


Prince. 
Poins. 

Prince. 


Chief 
Justice. 


Where's    our   red    rear-lamp?     Where's 
Bardolph? 

Shining  over  Southwark  if  he  be  not  puffed 
out  by  now.  He  ran  when  the  watch 
came.  The  Chief  Justice  looks  sourly. 
Is  any  appointed  to  speak  for  us,  Hal? 
Thy  notorious  innocence,  my  known  vir- 
tue, and,  if  these  fail,  Sir  John's  big  belly. 
I  have  fed  my  father's  Exchequer  here 
twice  since  Easter. 

Intemperate,  rash,  and  ill-advised  men — 
Yoke-fellows  at  unsavoury  enterprise — 
Harry,  and  you,  Sir  John,  stand  forth  for 
sentence! 
145 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Fluellen.  Put — put  there  is  no  indictment,  dis- 
charged upon  us  yet!  To  pronounce 
sentences,  look  you,  pefore  the  indict- 
ments is  discharged  is  ropperies  and 
oppressions. 

Nym.  Ay,  that's  the  humour  of  it.     When  they 

cry  Budget  we  must  cry  mum. 

Falstaff.  Cram  the  W^elsh  flannel  down  his  own 
throat,  or  we  are  imprisoned  after  the  fine. 
I  know  the  Chief  Justice  is  sick  of  me. 

Shallow.  [To  Chief  Justice.]  My  lord,  my  lord, 
if  you  suffer  yond  fat  knight  to  talk,  he'll 
cozen  the  teeth  out  of  your  lordship's  head, 
while  his  serving-man  steals  the  steeped 
crust  you'd  mumble  to.  I  lent  him  a 
thousand  pounds,  my  lord. 

Falstaff.  I  deny  it  not.  For  the  which  I  promised 
thee  advancement.  And  art  thou  not 
now  visibly  next  the  Chief  Justice  him- 
self? 

Shallow.  Not  on  my  merits,  Sir  John.  I  sit  here 
simple  of  courtesy  as  visiting-justice.  I'd 
do  as  much  for  my  lord  if  he  came  to 
Gloucestershire,  'faith! 

Falstaff.  Shallow!  Shallow!  I  say  I  gave  thee 
occasion  and  opportunity  to  rise.  Promo- 
tion is  in  thy  hands.  [To  Chief  Justice.] 
Have  a  care,  my  lord!  He  fingers  his 
dagger  already. 

Shallow.  My  dagger?  My  ink-horn,  la!  I'll  sit 
further  off.  I  told  you  how  he'd  talk,  my 
lord.  But  I'll  sit  further  off.  My  dagger, 
'faith! 

146 


THE  MARRED  DRIVES  OF  WINDSOR 


Chief 
Justice. 


Falstaff. 

Chief 
Justice. 

Dogberry. 


Prince. 


Chief 
Justice. 


Sir  John!  Sir  John!  The  license  of  in- 
veterate humour  overstretched  rends  like 
an  outworn  garment — with  like  shame 
to  the  enduer.  Answer  me  roundly,  what 
defence  make  you  to  the  charge  you  have 
run  through  Chepe  at  ten  leagues  the 
hour? 

Roundly,  my  lord,  my  shape — ^my  evident 
shape. 

But  'tis  so  charged,  and  will  be  so  wit- 
nessed. 

Yes,  and  by  one  that  hath  a  stopped 
watch  and  everything  forsworn  about 
him.  Write  it  down  fifteen  leagues,  my 
lord. 

[To  Chief  Justice.]  We  knights  of  the 
road  have  ever  been  fair  quarry  for  your 
knights  of  the  post  to  bind  to,  but  this 
passes  endurance.  We  left  our  car,  my 
lord,  extinct  and  combust  in  the  kennel, 
whilst  we  sought  an  engineer  to  hoist  her. 
In  which  stay  would  she  have  continued, 
but  for  the  prying  vulgar  who  found  on 
her  some  handle  to  their  curiosity,  which, 
doubtless,  they  turned.  For,  in  such  a 
car  as  this 

In  such  a  car  as  this 

The  enfranchised    'prentices  of  London 

quash 
Our  harmless  babes  and  necessary  wives 
147 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 


Portia. 


Chief 
Justice. 


Portia. 


At  morning  to  the  sound  of  Sabbath  bells 

Through  panicked  Huntingdon. 

In  such  a  car  as  this, 

Slides  young  Desire  athwart  the  moun- 
tain-tops. 

Drinking  the  airs  that  part  him  from  his 
dear 

'Twixt  Berwick  and  Glamorgan. 

In  such  a  car  as  this 

The  lecherous  Israelite  to  Brighthelmstone 

Convoys  his  Jessica. 

In  such  a  car  as  this. 

The  lean  chirurgeon  burns  the  midnight 

oil 
Impetuous  over  England.   Where  his  lamp 
Strikes  pale  the  hedgerow,  all  affrighted 

fays, 
Their  misty  revels  in  the  dew  divulged, 
Flee  to  the  coney's  burrow,  or  divide 
His  autre  with  the  squirrel — whom  that 

ministrant 
Marks  not,  his  eyes  being  bent  to  thrid  the 

dark. 
Indifferent  beneath  the  morning-star, 
To  the  poor  cot  that  summoned  him,  and 

the  life — 
An    hour-old,   mother-naked   life,   scarce 

held 
By  the  wan  midwife  but  it  yerks  and 

squeaks 
Batlike,  and  batlike,  would  to  the  void 

again. 

148 


THE  MARRED  DRIVES  OF  WINDSOR 

This  he  forbids,  and  yet  not  he  whose  art, 

His  car  unaiding,  else  had  ne'er  o'erleaped 

The  largess  of  a  county  in  an  hour. 
Shallow.       Neat,    faith,    la!     For   how   a   brace   of 

twins  now  the  far  side  Cotsall,  of  a  snowy 

night,  my  lord. 
Falstaff.       a  pregnant  wit.     Which  of  thy  misdeeds, 

Hal,  hath  raised  this  angel  to  help  us? 

I'll  ask  Doll. 
Prince.  Peace,  Dunghill,  peace!     She  was  never 

of  Doll's  company. 
Portia.  And  I  charge  you,  my  lord,  if  ever  need. 

Extreme  and  urgent  need,  hath  visited 
you. 

Or,  in  the  unprobeable  decrees  of  Time, 

May    visit    and    masterfully    constrain, 
think  well 

Ere  your  abhorrence  of  new  enginery 

Seal  up  the  avenues  of  mercy  here ! 


Chief 
Justice. 


Portia. 


I   sealed  no  avenues.     They  sealed  the 

King's 
(Albeit  it  was  called  Northumberland) 
With  hellish   engines  drawn  across  the 

street 
In  an  opposed  and  desperate  barrier 
Unto  the  lieges'  progress. 
Not  by  their  will,  or  their  intent,  my  lord ! 
It  was  a  passing  humour  of  the  car — 
Gusty  incontinence,  which  overlooked, 
As  unregard  oft  cows  pretension, 
May  well  not  chance  again. 
149 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 


Chief 

Justice. 

Portia. 


Fluellen. 


Nym. 

Chief 
Justice. 


Portia. 


But  if  it  chance? 

If  the   deep-brooding  vault  of  Heaven 

retain 
Memory  and  record  of  miracle 
Vouchsafed,    like    this    your    prayed-for 

mercy,  once, 
And,  in  default  of  quail,  rain  from  her  gate 
Heaven's  sweetest  choristers — then  it  may 

fall, 
But  not  till  then! 

Put — put — look  you,  she  is  telling  the  old 
shentlemans  to  wait  till  the  sky  shall  rain 
larks.     It  is  open  contempts  of  Courts! 
Ay,  there's  humours  in  them  all.     But  I 
think  the  old  man's  humour  is  sweeter. 

Yet,  bating  miracle,  how  if  mercy  breed 
Not  gratitude,  but  livelier  insolence, 
And  through  my  softened  verdict  after- 
years 
Grow  bold  to  break  the  law?    How  if 

our  England — 
Loverly,  temperate,  the  midmost  close  of 

peace — 
Dissolve  in  dust  and  oils  along  the  green, 
Till  sickened  memory  conceive  no  minute 
Unharried,  unpollutable,  unhooted? 
If  I  loose  these,  what  do  I  loose  on  Eng- 
land? 
Too  late!    Too  late!    That  babe  is  viable! 
The  hour  we  dread  o'ertops  us  while  we 
wonder, 

150 


THE  MARRED  DRIVES  OF  WINDSOR 


Ariel. 


Falstaff. 


Chief 
Justice. 


Not     asking     sufferance    but    imposing 

change 
Most  multitudinously.     Hark,  it  sings  i' 

the  wind! 
[Invisible — sings:] 
Where  the  car  shps  there  shp  I — 
In  a  sunbeam's  path  I  He! 
There  I  crouch  while  crowds  do  cry, 
After  somersaults  muddily! 
Where  I  lie,  where  I  lie,  shall  I  live  now 
Under  the  bonnet  that  bangs  on  my  brow? 
[To  Prince.] 

The  Chief  Justice  is  mazed  by  the  fairies. 
He  hath  great  motions  towards  virtue. 
He'll  let  us  go. 

Ourselves  have  snuffed  some  savour  of 

these  changes, 
And  more  our  horses  who,  poor  winkered 

fools, 
Hearing    their    dooms    outstrip    them, 

swerve  aside 
And  pole  the  all-shattered  house-fronts. 

We  ourselves 
Of  purpose  to  repair  to  Westminster, 
Infirmity  and  age  consenting,  signalled 
From  her  hot  lair  an  horseless  chariot 
Which,  in  the  recorded  twelth  part  of  an 

hour 
Bore  our  inviolate  ermines  half  a  league. 
It  is,  and  woe  it  is,  the  chill  refuge, 
The  lean,  unenvied  privilege  of  age, 
To  Tneet  new  changes  with  old  courtesy, 
151 


THE  YEARS  BETWEEN  AND  PARODIES 

Not  as  averting  change  but  sparing  souls 
Worn  weak,  and  bodies  extenuate,  with 

the  years 
That  heed  nor  never  heeded.     Set  them 

free. 
What  was  has  been,  and  what  will  be, 

must  be! 


THE    END. 


152 


THE  COUNTRY  LIFE  PRESS5 
GARDEN  CITY,  N.  Y. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara  College  Library 
Santa  Barbara,  California 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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